


Hunger

by felicia_angel



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: ...nah, Air Force!Chris, Chris is dealing with issues, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mating Bond, Wesker is a bit dense, based on an image, evil Russian man is Evil, maybe I should stop basing my RE fics on images and such, mer!May, mer!Wesker, no not like friend like something else, thinks he's his mate, wesker has a thing for chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:10:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicia_angel/pseuds/felicia_angel
Summary: A simple mistake that was not really that ends up with Chris somewhere, trapped and trying to escape some islands. Of course, in that area would be a very odd merman, one who is not about to give up his freedom to some human.Except for that one time...maybe...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pelissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelissa/gifts).



> I will one day stop writing stories that end up long. 
> 
> ...Today is not that day!
> 
> First part put up to at least hit the Mer!May, and no Beta, so...I apologize if things make no sense at points.
> 
> Special happy thoughts to Pelissa for basically saying "please write this" for her own mer!may photo.

 

Chris Redfield didn’t exactly think that he’d be thrown out a plane with a barely-functioning parachute and a life raft that he barely managed to deploy when he hit the ocean. Honestly, he thought they’d just kill him, but apparently that was too pedestrian. Nope, it was either straight supervillain logic or bust, and Chris shouldn’t be complaining, he really shouldn’t. Instead, he silently cursed his luck, not to mention that he’d trusted Billy with whatever he was saying. He hadn’t thought that Umbrella wouldn’t be so up for taking out a person who’d done something so small as to just...talk to one of their researchers who _needed_ to talk.

He doesn’t even have anything to use to figure out where he is, beyond the heat and sun beating down on him. His watch works for right now, at least, so he knows the time and, from that, can figure out where he is. He’s also a bit upset over the fact that he didn’t know what he was here for. Billy Rabbitson had not been the most handsome man, but he’d been in that bar as an escape, and he’d not realized what type of bar it was until someone had approached him and freaked him the fuck out. Chris had come to his rescue, no questions asked, and the two had talked for a long while.

Now, because of Chris being a good person, he was in the tropics or somewhere like that, surrounded by water, with only a few barely-sandbar islands to count as a place to call home. Or at least to call ‘a place to survive’, until he managed to get help.

If he managed that.

_Now isn’t the time for that, Redfield. Focus._

He did just that, taking stock of what he had, now that he was landed and getting to a sandbar stable enough to have trees. He was missing his dog tags, probably taken by the giant Russian with impractical knife who’d told him he was to ‘see how long the little man could survive’. The fetish the guy had for lickign it had not made Chris anymore willing to talk before he’d been thrown out the helicopter. He’d at least been left his combat knife, and with his SERE training, he could do this.

He was going to survive this, no matter what Umbrella wanted.

Redfield is so focused that he doesn’t notice the red eyes watching him under the water, dark spotted tail swaying in the water as it follows its prey.

-

Wesker frowns as he sees the Human continue to move, disliking where it’s going. If it continues, he’ll reach the island, and while there is a nice grotto there of fresh water, and some areas where he can still get to him, it’s considered a ‘safe’ area.

It’s not good. If he gets there, then the ones who’d held Wesker, who claimed to have ‘created’ him, will get to the man, and right now, Wesker doesn’t want that. The man is _his_ prey, his to defeat and rip apart, and Wesker will not allow any other to take him. If the man reaches that island, it will be harder for him to get the Human - C. Redfield, if the tags the fat, disgusting man had dropped when Wesker had pulled him into the water, told the truth. The man had gone down to the cold and dark depths, Wesker bashing the fat man along sharp coral and slashing at him with his own knives, muddying the water with dark blood. He dislikes that he’d had to resort to such tactics, preferring to kill those coming to this area and leave them on the shore, but he’d had few reasons to not leave Umbrella’s team in the open this time, one being the man he’s stalking.

No point in announcing his presence just yet.

He’s grateful when the man stops his raft onto a larger sandbar, the ocean turning choppy above and getting Wesker to smirk. It looks like a storm is coming in, and if the Human waits too long, he’ll be easy prey for Wesker to deal with. Easy enough to kill, to drown, and then to drag into the depths.

He slowly reaches closer and closer to the surface, doing his best to remain in the deeper pools, so he wouldn’t have to worry about a sudden lack of water. It was a method he’d used many times, with and without the aid of storms, so he was confident in his ability.

That plan disappears quickly, though, when the storm becomes almost too much, stirring up the ocean and sending him further onto the land than he’d wanted, and a sudden pull of the water leaves him stranded near one of the larger tide pools. He quickly works to pull himself into the water, not about to remain out of the water longer than required - he’d had his ‘limits’ outside of water tested enough, thank you - but with the tide now out, he can only barely pull himself into a small pool before he sees the Human, still alive and still on the island. What’s worse, he’s watching Wesker.

_DAMN!_

He does his best to hide, but his coloration never made him good for hiding. Birkin had said so, when he and Annette had studied him, when Sherry had happily spoken to him about her loneliness and taught him to read the Human words, to understand. The reminder sends a pang through his heart, and he curls his tail up as he hears the sound of footfalls before looking up to see his prey.

The human wears the tattered remains of a shirt, his skin turning tanned in some areas and red in others, with white peeling, shedding areas that look painful. His hair is a medium brown color, dark enough to hide in the depths when it’s not starting to turn red from the sun, and his eyes are as unremarkable as his hair. A beard, or the start of one, is growing on his face, though not as much as some others who’d evaded Wesker for less time, and he has a well-made knife pointed at Wesker, tied expertly to a sharpened wooden spear. Wesker glares at him, watching as his eyes go to Wesker’s hand. He’s still holding the chain, and after a look between the Human and them, slowly holds up the metal chains. He needs to graciate himself with this human, enough to survive this at least, and the metal tags might work.

The human blinks, surprised, then growls out, “Where did you get those?”

Wesker stays silent - no need to show his knowledge now - but the Human shifts, his grip still solid on the spear, as he slowly reaches and grabs the metal tags. He shifts back and puts them around his neck, still watching Wesker before pulling back the spear as well, giving them both space. “I can get you back into the ocean, if you need.”

“I don’t need help.” He snapped before even realizing what he was doing, glancing away as the Human looked at him briefly, as if considering. Wesker glared at him for it and repeated, “I don’t.”

Redfield raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? Because that storm was pretty bad, even the bit we got. It’ll be a few hours before the tide comes back up, and you’re...kinda in a tight spot.”

Wesker glared at him again, realizing Redfield was right. If the man left for the island, then there would be a few long, painful hours before the tide was up enough that he could get to the ocean again, and if he got the man to let him out, there was every chance of killing him and ending this facade of a chase. After all, beyond this island, there were few other places for Redfield or Wesker to go. This would be enough to kill him, and then go about his way.

Wesker’s pride is enough he might still deny it, though, and he starts to move to the edge of the small area he’s in, disliking how much water he displaced, while seeing that they were currently too far from where he needed to go if he tried to leave on his own. Last time he’d been so careless, he’d gotten lucky enough that the men from those who created him hadn’t been around, but with Redfield here...

“Fine, I do need help.”

Redfield chuckled, moving to take off the knife from the spear and put it...somewhere behind him...before he moved to get into the small tide pool, pulling Wesker out and up, one arm going around his shoulders, the other under his tail. Wesker’s tail quickly wrapped around his arm and midsection, getting Redfield to grimace at the feel. “What are you, part shark or something?”

He’s heard his skin is like that of a shark, but he doesn’t comment on it to Redfield, instead saying part of the truth. “I don’t know.”

Redfield doesn’t ask more, instead shifting enough to take them towards the sea as Wesker does his best to not think about how...nice...the man’s skin is, how strong he was even after the moon of being trapped here, that his skin was warm despite the burned and peeling areas, and the shirt is soft,doing well to show his muscles, the cloth normally covering that part having disappeared.

It would be a shame to kill the man, but Wesker needs to do that. He needs to be kept safe, and so far, the deaths of any that his creators had sent was what kept him that way. This man, whoever he was, had been sent here by his creators to be hunted or killed, so no matter how handsome or nice, he would have to die. If not by Wesker’s hands, then by that of Sergei, and honestly, Wesker’s methods were a mercy compared to that man’s.

Wesker manages to hold on, tail wrapped around Redfield’s waist, until they’re fairly deep in the water, near a drop that apparently, the Human can’t quite see. Wesker silently takes note of some of the coral and rocks in the area, even in these shallows, and waits as Redfield lets out a sigh. “We’re deep enough, you can let go.”

“Yes,” Wesker mutters, moving his upper body away as he pulled with his lower, pulling the human off-balance and into the water. He moves in to do a rolling move, one that would easily separate parts of the Human’s spine and leave him defenseless, but a sharp pain gets him to recoil before another hit sends him down and into the hard sand, moving away as Redfield goes up for air, the knife flashing in the refracted sunlight and kicked up sand.

Wesker lets out a growl, pushing off the floor and darting up to tackle the Human and pull him back down, struggling to keep control at the bite of the blade in his arms, doing his best to avoid it or get the man into a position that he could use against him. The Human is quick, though, managing to get out of any move that Wesker would use, fighting with his arms and legs, getting up for air when he needs it and managing to fight back. Wesker struggles to fight back and get the advantage, eyes flashing red with anger as another feeling starts to come in, deep in his gut.

_He’s able to keep up with me, fight back, perfect, perfection, MATE_

_MY MATE. MINE!_

“NO!” Wesker screams underwater, the sound carrying as he does his best to pull the Human and himself down and away from the island, to hold onto him and pull Redfield into the cold depths. He doesn’t know what that is, what base and strange instinct that is, but he will _not_ give into it, he will not allow this Human to make him weak!

They roll as they continue to fight, the Human weakening when unable to get up for air, kicking and struggling against Wesker and having to break his hold on the merman a few times to try to suck in air. Their fight is almost too intense, too much, that Wesker almost doesn’t sense the sound of the incoming small boats.

Almost, but they are loud, even in the water, and he can’t help but realize what their arrival will mean.

He debates leaving the man to die, but so far, Redfield had been able to avoid his creators Umbrella. If he kills him now, the Human will only float to the surface. If they continue, they’ll be found.

_The grotto...that will be safe._

Redfield’s weakening in his hold, too much so for Wesker to keep him alive with the pain his tail is now giving him, adrenaline starting to calm enough to realize that he’s got a few more cuts and holes in him than he needs just now. Cursing their luck, Wesker pulls the Human up quickly, sealing their lips together and breathing as he briefly sees the Human’s eyes go wide in the water. It takes a moment before he feels the first exchange of air, before he realizes what Wesker’s doing.

_Mate, mate, share breath, share life, MA--_

_NO! We need to work together against the men. He isn’t that._

_He won’t be._

Wesker releases Redfield and points up at the now-visible craft, the two seeing the men who are looking around the sandbar, barely visible through the darkened water. Redfield remains silent, glancing to Wesker after seeing the men briefly before shifting, tearing at his shirt and pulling a long strip from it. He quickly wraps it around the deeper cuts on Wesker’s tail. The effort means Wesker has to breath for them again, moving them a bit further away and into darker water, but it at least staunches the bleeding and allows them to move quickly, without Wesker worrying as much as he would about attracting other animals, or even the men themselves. He might be partly shark, as Redfield suggested, but he disliked tangling with them, though at this point, he’ll take this one over the men coming after them, or the infuriating Redfield and his biologies sudden betrayal.

-

Chris is grateful to get into the small grotto or whatever it is, pulling in a breath of cool air instead of the salty tang of the one that Wesker had given him when they’d nearly been spotted. His attempt to escape the merman for the relative safety of the beach hadn’t worked, and now he was without a raft or some of the supplies. Lucky him then that the island seemed to be about as well-stocked as Crusoe’s was, or at least this area was.

Fuck, he’s also glad he’d read and taken in that book and some of the stuff it talked about, at least as far as learning how to do shit and having to learn by trying. It would have alleviated some of the past month’s - crap, had it been that long? - boredom he’d gone through.

He’d just rather not randomly have only a Bible to read, thanks.

Nope, instead he gets a merman, one who’s wounded and bleeding and in need of at least some medical attention, if he’d stop glaring at Chris for dragging him partway up the beach. Chris, unluckily, doesn’t have much to help with beyond his tattered shirt and a way to make something to wrap around the rest of his wounds. Luckily he’d not gotten to a good enough angle to probably hurt the merman that badly, but now that he has a better look at the merman on shore again, he realizes that some of the hits were pretty serious.

Well, no more shirt for Chris. He quickly washes off what he can, using his knife to cut up parts of it and getting close as Wesker glares weakly at him as he works to wrap the other parts, tail shifting as if the merman wants to slap him with it. The thing is all muscle, and Chris doesn’t want to tangle with him again.

“Look, as much as you want to...I dunno, eat me or whatever, you do need to at least get better, so let me help you.”

The merman is silent, but looks away and allows Chris to wrap up the rest of the wounds as best he can. Most of them, from what Chris can see, are already starting to heal quickly, and he also notices the sandpaper-like scales are far more...even, even soft, if he rubs them the right way.

“Stop that.”

Chris glances up at the merman in confusion before he sees the red starting to appear on his pale cheeks. Oh great, he’s molesting a fish!

“Sorry,” he mutters, finishing up quickly before saying, “You heal fast.”

“They wanted that,” the merman mutters, getting Chris to frown. The merman glances at him briefly before waving out. “Them.”

“Umbrella...made you?”

The merman snorts, as if angered the the implication, before saying, “Hardly, but they did...find my kind and...adapt me to their needs, or what they believed would be their needs. Smart sea animals is one thing. Mermaids and mermen who are loyal to the company? Easy enough, they thought, simply raise them correctly,” he lets out a huff, looking away as his tail twitches, “I’m the only one left.”

Chris is quiet at that, wishing he knew what to say, before glancing around before noticing some of the sand sticking to the merman’s pale skin before he hears the sound of what might be more boats. “Well, I’m not exactly their friend either.”

The merman gives him an incredulous look as Chris lets out a breath before explaining, “I talked with one of their scientists when he was having a bad day, and next thing I know, I’m dumped here with just my knife, a raft, and no idea where the hell I am. That jackass Irons came after me for ‘ruining things’, but I guess you took care of that. Either way, I doubt they’re coming so strong for you, if they sent him along.”

The merman tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m probably the one they’re hunting, not you. You’re probably lucky enough to be the door prize. Irons certainly seemed to believe he was there to get me when he first got the drop on me, but I could be wrong.”

Chris watches as the merman’s face goes blank, as if trying to figure something out, then he looks back to the ocean. It gave Chris time to admire the handsome face, the red eyes that seemed to shift to almost yellow in places, more human but with some differences that made him think of other animals, land one and not aquatic. His hair is slick from the water, but it seemed to be comed up and back, in a way that Chris kinda finds nice, especially on him.

_Now’s not the time for that. Last time you got lost in thought, you ended up here._

“I’m not sure if they’ll come here, or hell, if they’ll find us here,” Chris finally says as he stands, looking around the grotto-cove-thing, “If they’re not looking for you, you should head out.”

The merman scoffed. “I doubt they’re sending those ones out for you because you evaded...Irons. I killed their men before, so they know i’m here now. The team is probably after us both after one failed, if only because it reconfirmed my continued existence.”

Chris curses quietly as he mentally tallies what the place has for later. The area is pretty well protected as far as he can tell, but he would give a lot for some of the stuff from a Verne novel, or even from Crusoe’s book. Guns would be good.

“...Could you get to their bodies? If they’re still there.” The meman looked at him curiously. “They might have something we need.”

“Or trackers.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but we can check underwater, right? No need to bring more stuff here and announce our presence.”

The merman uses his tail to flick water at Chris when a wave gets close enough, getting Chris to flinch a way in annoyance. “I’ll check then. What do you need specifically?”

“I’ll take whatever they have - anything might be useful.”

The merman hummed in what might be approval before moving through the sand with ease and back into the sea, floating in the water a bit before looking over at Chris and pointing to a cave formation nearby. “They might come. Do your best to hide, or at least make sure they don’t take you. I’d hate to come back to a net.”

-

He doesn’t bother to stay and see if Redfield follows the order, instead diving back down and doing his best to not think about how his body is reacting. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t have these damned feelings, he should simply kill the Human and be done with it. At the same time, if Redfield is wanted by the men after them, if he’s the reason for them coming over, then it means Wesker may have to do what he can to keep him safe. Whatever he was, or had done, to make Spencer upset for simply _speaking_ to a person…

Of course, that didn’t matter to his body, to some part of his biology he didn’t understand. There were no others like him in the area, and he enjoyed the solitude, or had, because it meant he could simply be alone and not bother the others. He was not like them, after all, having been changed by Spencer and his lot. He didn’t see why he should hide with the others when it was likely they’d only be in danger form that. Since he’d never seen another one like him in the area, or they had not followed any signs into his territory, on accident or by design, then Wesker has only to assume they feel the same way.

It doesn’t take long before he’s able to find the bodies, the latests one half-eaten by fish and other animals. At least one crab threatens him as he pulls up the fat, bloated man, pulling his items off and pausing as he looks through some of it. There’s some weapons, wet but possibly useable, but the outfit on this one is nowhere near good enough for his ma-

Wesker shakes his head, letting out a huff of annoyance as he pulls out a few other things, including a knife, and glancing around before quickly swimming back, skirting near the sandbars. The man and his followers are still there, Wesker now recognizing him as one who spoke in a different language, who called the computer monitoring Wesker a ‘she’ and seemed to care for it. Sherry had said his name was Sergei Vladimir, and Birkin had had a healthy fear of the man before Wesker’s escape. Wesker does as well - he is not stable, and some part of Wesker loathes the man but respects him. He’s dangerous and aggressive, far more than his m--than Redfield, but he is also not the same. Redfield fights to keep himself alive, but it’s already obvious he will do his best to keep others safe as well. Seregi is simply something Wesker has yet to encounter the likes of, and makes him disgusted to his core.

Wesker quickly swims away, upset with this new knowledge. Sergei is a good tracker, but he’s also heavy, and it’s more likely he’ll allow himself to be heard while searching than to find them. Wesker will just have to be careful, to not let the man near his m-

_Stop that._

He finds the grotto empty, and luckily it’s dark and with no signs of Umbrella having been around. He manages to get into the caves system via a river, having to swim against the current for a bit until he finds where Redfield had made camp in a semi-secluded cave-like area, knife coming up in a defensive position until he sees Wesker, relaxing and letting out a breath. It appeared he’d caught some fish somewhere, and had one ready for Wesker when he arrived as well.

_Getting me food, my wonderful handsome m-_

Wesker dumps the gear for him on the sandy, rock-rough shore, getting Redfield to blink and move over, pulling up some of them and checking some of the items as Wesker asks, “Will that suffice?”

“It should,” Redfield says, offering a smile. “Thanks. I managed to catch some fish. Not sure how you eat it, if you like it cooked or not.” He touches the one that is stuck over a fire, the smell making Wesker’s mouth water. It’s a good fish, one that he doesn’t always manage to get, and cooked food is a luxury right now. He does his best to not look too needy at it, but apparently he was caught, if Redfield’s smile and move to get the other fish into a similar state before once more testing the fish, then taking it up and offering the fish on the stick, the first one done, to Wesker.

“You did a lot of work. I can wait a bit. I need to check out what you got me, anyway.”

_Strong, handsome, capable, perfect, perfection, MATE_

Wesker took it, shifting a bit away into the cool water to eat as Redfield began to examine the various equipment he now had, as well as wait for his own fish to cook. Tomorrow he’d deal with this, deal with Redfield, Sergei, and hopefully, his biology will stop being so...weird.

“Wesker.”

“Huh?” Redfield looks over at him in surprise, Wesker glaring at him as he swallows more of the fish, enjoying the taste of it.

“I’m called Wesker, or at least I call myself that. My guess from the things I gave you is that you are Redfield.”

Redfield smiles a bit at that, touching the metal tags before nodding and saying, “It’s actually Chris...Chris Redfield. You can call me either, though.”

_Chris..._ the name rolls over in his mind as easily as the other thoughts of this man being his mate had, making Wesker almost balk at the thought. He needs to keep space between him and the Human, and he needs to figure out what to do about his biology and it’s sudden, weird turn.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite hiding, and despite trying to 'fix' his issues, Wesker and Chris are still found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write a SHORT story, I'm going to condense stuff ok?

As much as Chris dislikes hiding, he hates Iron’s water-logged gun even more, and has to be careful in taking it apart and giving it the barest of cleanings it requires. He’d moved the gun far enough from the river to allow it time to dry, at least, but considering both the previous owner and the near-month it had spent in salt-water, Chris is more amazed that any of it in working order.  

Chris doesn’t blame Wesker for the state of it either - the merman couldn’t know that it was in a bad state, and having it might be enough to dissuade anyone from being too forceful or belligerent if they see it. Hell, it could work also as a one-time use projectile, but for now…

“What are you doing?”

Chris nearly dropped the pin as he turned, looking over at Wesker as he moved up from the deeper part of the river to the shore, tail up a bit, amusement dancing across his eyes at having startled Chris. After they’d eaten some breakfast-fish and Chris had checked Wesker’s wounds, seeing them not only healed but without any scars, Wesker had gone back out to look for more items, taking Irons’ knife with him. He’d managed to get a few animals - mostly fish and some other sea-life - for Chris and his small cooking fire, then gone back out as it neared the afternoon to try for at least something else besides knives or ruined clothing that Chris was somewhat drying. Chris had done little to explore the island beyond getting more fuel for the fire, having seen a few signs that other people had been here recently, and probably would be back soon.

“I’m seeing if the gun is well-put together,” he tells him, shifting a bit to show more of what he’s doing to the merman as he starts putting the parts back together. “Irons wasn’t exactly known for taking care of his things, not if he could pass it off to someone else.”

“You knew him from before you came here?”

Chris is quiet, his focus going back to the gun as he considers what to say. He didn’t think telling his whole story to Wesker would hurt, but he’s not sure how much of it Wesker would understand without the context of living as a person. “I knew him from something else, before the incident that got me here. I think he’s the one who guessed that I talked with Billy, because of that.”

Wesker hummed, as if taking it in, before his red eyes fix on Chris. “You’re dancing around the issue.”

Chris glares at the merman as he finished putting the gun back together. “And you don’t?”

“I have my reasons,” he points out, flicking his tail so water when Chris moves closer to the shore, splashing it on Chris’ face, getting the Air Force sergeant to sputter a bit as he glares at his one companion. “They seem better than yours.”

Chris doubts it, if only because he’s not sure Wesker would tell him everything. Granted, he doubts he might understand all of it as it is, but at least if the merman talks to him about his own interactions with Umbrella, they might be able to better attack the situation they’re in.

“I doubt you’d understand my reasons, not without some context,” Chris tells him, managing to flick some sand at him in retaliation. The merman’s eyes narrow at it before he seems to go into the water, bubbles popping up as Chris holds in a laugh. Wesker went to hide a _sneeze!_

More water flicks at him, getting Chris to glare back as Wesker surfaces again, looking proud of himself. Chris moves fast, flicking the softer sand near him hard so Wesker got another faceful of sand. He saw the merman huff, sending up some of the particles, the sand coating his face as he can’t do anything else but sneeze, getting Chris to laugh at the disgruntled look he gets. It reminds Chris of the look Claire had the one time they’d gone to the beach and she’d accidentally scrubbed her face full of sand.

The memory of his sister sours his mood, getting him to sit back and look around the cave he’s currently hiding in with the disgruntled merman who’s scrubbing his face clean of the sand and still glaring at him. That he’s not hit with more water makes Chris glance over at the merman, noting his curious and almost worried look. Apparently Chris’ sudden melancholy hadn’t gone unnoticed like it normally did when he was with everyone else.

Claire had liked some adventure stuff when they were younger, but not the same things he had, even when he passed down well-worn books and good places to explore. Six years his junior, he’d watched over her as much as he could, but when he was seventeen that’d all ended. His tough sister had found out, like mom and dad had, but she’d taken him as he was. The rest of his family hadn’t, though his time in the service had at least gotten him in their good graces. Claire hadn’t talked about what happened, but she’d accepted him.

This merman might too.

_But that requires neither of us to die here. And for you to tell him._

Mood completely sour now, Chris let out a huff and slowly stood, shifting to get the gun and put it in one of his pockets before looking up and around at the cave and exit. “I’m going to see what type of island this is.”

“Isn’t that foolhardy?” the merman asks, face now clean of sand, his tail moving as if irritated by something. Chris waves it off, instead heading out to sulk on his own. Even if that guy does find him, if he’s able to keep them from Wesker, that’ll at least be one good thing he’s done.

-

Wesker remains in the cave area for longer than he probably should, annoyed by the change in his ma- in Redfield. He had smiled, truly smiled, and seemed amused by the antics of tossing sand at Wesker after he’d thrown water at him. Wesker had not retaliated because a larger splash might put out the fire that Redfield had cultivated, and he’d assumed things would go well. Yes, he’d hated that he had to sneeze for the smile, but it was almost worth it.

_His mate smiled, looked joyous, and then…_

Wesker shakes his head clear, instead glaring at the bits of sand and other scattered items he’d collected for his ma-- for Redfield. It’s not very good, even after two days together, but at the same time it’s all he can find, and his ma--Redfield had obviously put it all to use, calming Wesker’s strange biological urges. He’d gotten his ma--Redfield food, to repay him for the food he’d caught and cooked last night, and like before, Redfield had allowed Wesker the first finished bit of food. Of course his biology had gone haywire over that, and now all Wesker wants to do is drag Redfield to him, to roll with him in the surf and sand and twine his tail around Chris, to...

Wesker lets out a growl of frustration as he makes it to the grotto and heads into deeper water, then to the open sea. Sergei and the others are still somewhere in the area, and it worries him that Redfield is gone from the safety of their den because of his upset. He’d much rather Redfield be near water, be near enough that he could defend his home and his ma--

Wesker pulls up short, the train of thought making him curse himself for not stopping it earlier, the fish quickly speeding away as he turns and begins to survey the other islands, looking for signs of Umbrella’s time there. He spots a few traps, most of them laid for him long ago and left undisturbed for just as long, but notes nothing new in the ocean, and finds nothing but a few pretty shells that he has to physically stop himself from picking up. His ma--Redfield doesn’t need any of that, as pretty as they would be on him.

So what his ma-- Redfield said is possibly true, and they _are_ here for him. It only serves to make anger and worry coil in his belly all the more. If he’s telling the truth, then all the more reason that Wesker needs to try to keep Redfield safe, needs to keep his mate safe from Umbrella and their machinations. Chris is _his mate_ , _his_ , and if they think they can take such a thing from him...

Wesker stops, quickly turning around and heading back to the island, slowing as he gets to the entrance of the grotto, worry getting higher and higher as he nears enough to the surface and sees something around the side.

_Sensors. They know we’re there…No, I haven’t seen it before, it’s new, but..._

_My mate. Do they have my mate?_

Not even bothering to think of what the sensors mean, he quickly swims deep and back up, looking for more and only seeing the ones on the top, quickly diving down and around them before heading into the river. It’s not a deep river the further in he gets, and he can feel the air on his fin as he nears the spot they’d been, moving and looking up and trying to search for Redfield as he reaches the area. Wesker moves a bit further onto the beach and over the sand and rocks, looking for some sign that his mate was there, had been there, and was safe. He almost wants to call out to him, but his equal fear of what else might be here makes him wary.

_Damnit._

He turns back, pausing only when he hears footsteps along the way, hesitant but quick. He sees Redfield hurrying back the way he’d gone, without the gun and with bruises now showing on his body. His brown eyes meets Wesker’s red ones before he motions towards the grotto the worry and message evident.

_My mate is being hunted, and needs me to run._

  1. _I won’t leave him alone!_



Wesker moves, getting back on shore, only as Redfield gets closer, anger showing as Redfield hisses, “Get out of here!”

“Shut up,” Wesker growls out, intending to pull his mate down into the water and get them anywhere else but here - he’ll even take one of the places with ‘civilization’ so his mate will be safe - but no sooner does he dive into the river then something catches up to his his mate, Wesker stopping when he sees the signs of struggle going on. He moves close enough to the surface to see his mate wrestling and attempting to escape from one of the ‘brothers’ that Sergei had, kicking up and managing to grab a bit of the fire before using it to hit the monster.

The things are not human, though they appear to be, but the fire is right now enough to send it back, giving Redfield enough time to use more of it and run, heading for the beach. Wesker quickly follows, getting low in the water to avoid being seen, and comes back up when he doesn’t see Redfield or hear anything in the surf.

On the shore, Redfield struggles in the monster’s grasp, and Wesker hears Sergei speaking, apparently to his mate, though what he’s saying is muted through the water, but the murderous intent is obvious. Wesker does his best to not panic at the thoughts of his mate tangling with one of Sergei’s ‘brothers’. They’re taller and stronger than average humans, covered in a thick coat and a full mask, hiding their true faces and natures. There’s more sounds of fighting, sand splashing on the water, as Redfield fights, stalling the monster and it’s attempt to kill him, or drag his mate to Sergei. Despite the difference in strength, Redfield is able to slip out and around as Wesker watches, using his speed and freedom from the heavier items to his advantage, pushing and fighting the thing. Wesker is focused on Redfield, watching as his mate struggles, fighting…

...forcing the ‘brother’ holding him into the surf, where Wesker is.

Wesker takes the opportunity the moment he sees it, pulling both the thing and his mate into the water and as far down as he can, as quickly as he can. He pulls out the knife he’d gotten off the dead Irons, grabbing the fighting figure as his mate does his best to get free of the thing’s hold and keep it where Wesker can attack. Wesker manages to shove the knife into the back of the thing’s head, severing it’s spine and pushing it far enough up that Wesker can’t even pull the handle back. The thing shudders as it dies, Wesker moving to pull his mate out of it’s hold and give him air, one hand going to his waist as he does. He hears something above them, knows it’s Sergei and the other, but right now his most pressing matter is getting more air to his mate, making sure he’s alive and safe.

Wesker’s tail twines around Redfield’s lower body without realizing it, pulling him closer as he shares air with his mate. Redfield is the one to break it off, looking at Wesker oddly. Wesker has to move his tail away when he realizes Redfield needs his legs to keep himself from fully sinking. Wesker quickly looks around, hearing the sound of motors near the exit before he grabs his mate, the two swimming down and trying to get out.

He wonders if Humans have the same instinct as he does, if the others of his kind do, or if this is something built in to try to ‘tame’ him. Either way, he’s a bit surprised when he sees his mate suddenly jerk in fear, moving to try to pull Wesker back, right before a net goes around him. The net only surrounds him, not Redfield, and pulls him up and back as his mate quickly moves, trying to cut the net as they’re pulled back to the shore in a sudden, almost violent pull that makes it hard for Wesker to help. The heavy sound of Sergei’s footsteps nearly being missed as Wesker watches the other ‘brother’ pull Redfield up and out of the surf, Wesker watching as his mate moves and, in a single fluid motion, kills the one holding him with near the same movement as Wesker’s own, though this is from facing forward than behind.

_My beautiful, resourceful, strong mate._

Sergei lets out an angry cry as he rushes forward, grabbing Redfield as he gets loose and the final ‘brother’ falls dead into the surf, his mate managing to twist, attempting to escape and get to Wesker but failing as Wesker struggles with the net. The loud sound of a shot that echoes loudly, getting Wesker to let out his own pitched sound at it before seeing Sergei fall, blood coming from his back and the man’s eyes glazed over, dead. Redfield is holding the gun, triumphant, as Wesker works to get out of the net. The sound of the others, guards they hadn’t noticed, gets Redfield to turn, on the defensive and gun ready. Wesker shifts and struggles, managing to spot the two familiar faces, both standing as if they own the island, just off to one side.

“Tech Sergeant Chris Redfield,” the man that claimed to be Wesker’s father said, sitting in his chair and looking almost bored as he watches the armed men surround them, Redfield cursing and dropping the gun, raising his hands as Wesker hisses angrily at the ones who grab and reclose the net around him. “I should thank you for finding my lost property.”

Redfield doesn’t speak, going to his knees as one of the others manhandle him down to the sand, Wesker fighting and hissing at those that get close to them as Spencer continues. “However, it seems you’ve broken him. Well, I’ll have to return the favor then.”

Wesker lets out more angry sounds and loud, ear-piercing screeches - screeches better used for underwater sonar over being ashore, as the guards pull Redfield away, one hitting his mate hard, making him go limp before another strikes him, Redfield letting out a pained sound at it. The woman watches on, arms crossed, as Wesker does his best to fight and get to where they’re taking his mate. The net is too course, the air drying out his scales and fins too much, but he does manage to scream and claw at more of his captors before something hits his head, and he falls into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now in Umbrella's hold, Chris and Wesker struggle to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to change this into a gift for Pelissa, because technically it is...

The voices outside of his cell carry, not enough for him to make out the words but enough for Chris to wake and shift unhappily against his bonds. He’s been put in a ‘stress’ position, making his whole body ache painfully, sometime after he’d fallen unconscious. His body feels more bruised and worked over than he’d care to think, and once more, his mind goes to Wesker and what might have happened to him.

After a month of running whatever island-fueled death-gauntlet they’d had, apparently playing the Most Dangerous Game had proved useless, and now they simply wanted to make him pay for whatever perceived indiscression he’d done, first with giving Billy a shoulder to cry on, and now with being...what, nice? Socialible? Not a dick?...to Wesker. At least they hadn’t tried twenty-questions with him, not after the first five had Redfield reciting name and serial number.

It didn’t stop him from worrying about the merman. He wants to get out of here, hopefully get Wesker out of here, and just get Umbrella off their back. He’s pretty sure it’s been about two days of fairly standard torture, so his SERE training is coming in handy, but it’s starting to wear on him, not to mention his worry over what they’re doing to Wesker. The merman’s screams and screeching when he’d been in the net had haunted Chris dreams, and the man’s ominous statement about Wesker being ‘broken’ doesn’t bode well for the handsome merman.

_Handsome? Really Redfield? You’ve already near-molested him, now you’re lusting after him?_

He hears more muffled arguments as Chris shifts, doing his best to break the bonds holding him as the voices get louder and closer. The door to his dark cell opens, the harsh light making him wince. He tries to get a better look at the guys coming in, but their faces are covered, as always. One of the guards hits him, making Chris’ head spin as the other releases him suddenly, Chris unable to stop himself from hitting the ground hard. Chris spits out some blood at the first guard that pulls him up by his hair, making him let go of Chris as the other kicks his stomach, forcing Chris to curl up against the pain. A third man, one Chris can see is wearing a white lab coat, protests his attack weakly as Chris does his best to not let out a pained groan, focusing on breathing. The two guards grab his arms and pull him to stand, getting him to look over the washed-out looking smaller man who motions for them to drag him forward. His face is haggard-looking under the dirty-blond hair that’s messy and almost unkept, the man’s blue eyes searching his with a look of barely concealed disdain.

“What did you do to the specimen?”

Chris is quiet, not liking the question or tone. He has a feeling the question is about Wesker, and that he’s being talked about as a _thing_ somehow translates to Chris wanting to defend the merman from being seen as such. Wesker’s smart, resourceful, a really good kisser - ok, maybe leave that part out - and they make a great team. He’s not letting someone get away with boiling him down to being a ‘specimen’, like some science project.

_Even though he admitted to basically being such, they shouldn’t call him that._

The slap isn’t that hard, not compared to the earlier hits, but Chris still turns his head with it at the guards chuckle, either because of the weak hit or from seeing Chris in pain, he can’t tell. Chris isn’t sure who told who to bring him out, but it might not be this scientist-guy.

“What did you do to the specimen while it was outside of our captivity? What did you put into its blood stream?”

_The hell?_

The only time Chris had done anything was when they were fighting that first time, and his knife didn’t exactly have anything on it besides blood from other fish he’d gotten to eat, but at the time it’d been cleaned. He’d done his best to make sure Wesker was ok too, saw how fast he healed from the gouges he’d put in him while trying to escape.

Chris waits, confusion evident on his face. This had gone from defending Wesker as a being smart enough to make his own choices to simply having no answer for the questions posed.

The second slap was as weak as the first, but Chris still turned with it. He’ll take a weak slap over a fist to the gut. “Answer me!”

Chris glanced at him, angry at the demand and angrier as the man let out a huff and motioned for the guards to bring him along. “Take him to the containment room, but don’t put him in the tank. Make sure he’s secured.”

Chris does his best to not think of it as they drag him off, stumbling as they march him down the hallway and into a room. He blinks at the harsh light in it, more natural than the fluorescent lights in the halls he’d just been in, let alone the bad lighting from the room he’d been kept in. His head hurts from the changes in lighting, but the more natural light allows him to see the large, water-filled tanks that makes up a good part of the room, various points sectioned off and apparently observational, since even minimalistic fish bowls had more decorations then what’s before him. All appear to connect to some larger areas through various tubes, a sort of maze appearing all around him, sunlight filtering through plexiglass and water. The one under them as they walk is, in contrast to the light-filled minimalist nightmare of a maze around them, full of darkness, the water muddy and brown, feeling almost like a swamp or bog waiting to devour them at a wrong step. Something foul comes from the water too, nearly getting Chris to gag when it finally reaches his nose.

 There isn’t a lot else, besides some basic medical equipment and large computers, as well as smaller ones on rolling trolleys with various printouts. He does notice the various chairs and what looks like some fish and stuff for feeding, but that doesn’t keep his attention as much as the final bit that comes into his line of sight.

In one of the larger tanks, Chris sees a familiar bit of blonde hair, pale skin, and blue-gray spotted tail. As they get nearer to the containment tank with Wesker, the scientist pulls out a folding chair, setting it down in front of the tank as the men force Chris to sit in it, tying him to the chair with rope as he takes in the sight of the merman while also struggling weakly against them.

Wesker seems almost lethargic, his tail and skin seeming to peel unnaturally as he remains mostly curled up on the bottom of one tank, eyes closed and head resting against his arm. He doesn’t see any signs of abuse, but just the fact that he’s not even bothered to look or react to the noise is far worse than when Chris met him.

Outside of here, Wesker had been active, attentive, and almost enjoying things. Here...here bits of his tail were starting to turn into translucent fans, and he looked almost worse for wear.

Chris quickly raises a protest when one of the men forces in a balled bit of cloth to his mouth, gagging him. He cries out again as the rope is pulled painfully against his skin, seeing Wesker begin to stir out of the corner of his eye.

-

The sound of a struggle gets Wesker to barely open his eyes, seeing Umbrella’s men moving to try to fight and keep someone still in a folding chair. He briefly wonders if it’s another one they think looks like his mate, wonders if this is what he’s come to. The days apart have left him without an appetite, his only concern and fear being the death or possible loss of his mate.

Wesker mentally chastises himself for having given in to his biology so easily, but also wonders if this is what it was like for the mad one - Lisa - who’s trapped in the facility. Birkin mentioned her in passing, that some of what she had had went into his own creation, especially with regards in how he heals. What Wesker knew, from the time he’d been passed over her tank, is that she is dangerous and mad.

After waking back in his old tank, the memories of Spencer’s distaste, Alex’s angry silence, and the way his mate had been treated when caught, Wesker found himself without appetite, unwilling to do more than simply rest, his mind going to the worst case scenarios. When Birkin, who he normally liked, had attempted to get samples, Wesker had hissed and nearly pulled Birkin into the tank to drown until the scientist had backed off. Wesker had barely managed to control himself and stop, before avoiding the scientist or the guards as best he could. Wesker _likes_ Birkin, he has to remind himself, but the idea that Birkin was keeping his mate from him, or had caused his mate harm, even had him killed...

Was this what going mad was? That he considered ripping apart anyone who came to his tank? That his body now simply can’t be trusted around those his mind knows will try to help him?

Wesker shifts, glancing over at the guards as one moves enough to show his mate, gagged and tied to a chair. He’s not sure where the burst of energy comes from, but he’s against the wall of the tank quickly, hands pressed hard against the glass as he looks over at his mate. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and if he sees Birkin’s surprise at how fast he moves, he ignores it in favor of drinking in the sight of his mate - his mate, alive! _My mate is alive and--_

Redfield, his beautiful mate, is hurt - bruises and bits of new, red wounds mar his skin, which is now still peeling but evening out to a more tanned color, making his mate even more handsome than before. One eyes has bruising around it, coloring it black and purple, and he looks almost like he’d simply been hurt for perverse pleasure.

Chris locks eyes on Wesker, seeming to relax as he sees him moving, though his eyes go down to Wesker’s own unhappy coloring and the shedding that he’d been going through. It makes Wesker self-conscious of the odd situation, though he suspects it’s because his body has hi-jacked his mind and is trying to get him ready to mate or whatever it wants to do. He has no idea about his kind’s mating practice, nor does he believe that any of what they do will apply to him fully - not with how much his genetic code has been changed, as Birkin spoke about - but some feeling inside of him seems to indicate he’s changing because he found his mate.

Wesker wants to be with his mate, to take him in and hide him away from these people, and now that Chris is here, in view, but not in the tank with Wesker, his biology is making him antsy and worried. If he’s not with Wesker, those others will hurt him again. If he’s not with Wesker, they might kill him, and there will be nothing Wesker could do about it besides rip them all apart when they come for him.

“Recording. Observations of returned specimen PG67-AWesker, day 2 in captivity,” Birkin’s voice is clear through the room, but Wesker ignores it mostly, instead focused on looking over his mate. He shifts and moves in the tank, hands pressing against the glass and trying to find a weakness or way out, eyes darting quickly around before returning to Chris as Birkin goes over the normal notes, nothing that Wesker really wants to focus on. He knows from his earlier time here that escape is not possible at the time - the ways out are blocked and closed, stopping him from going through the maze or finding his way around, leaving him in the now too-small tank as he swims around the perimeter a few times, returning quickly to Chris when he hears Birkin pause, apparently changing the subject.  

“Human retrieved with subject - Tech Sergeant Redfield - had been brought in and is currently being shown to subject. Subject has responded and appears to be no longer lethargic - in fact, he is more active than in the past two days, and more attentive than before he escaped. It appears the human retrieved has had a positive effect on the the subject.” Wesker sees Redfield shift in the chair, apparently angry at Birkin’s commentary. Wesker can understand the feeling, though right now he’s angrier at Birkin for keeping Redfield from him for so long.

Wesker barely listens as Birkin goes on with his observations and notes, instead shifting and becoming more agitated as his mate does, hating to see him in pain and suffering at the hands of the others. His mate is showing signs that the pain of the beatings are starting to wear on him, and Wesker once more starts to search for a way to get to his mate. He makes an unhappy sound as Birkin moves closer to Redfield, the sound turning to one of anger as Redfield began to struggle against his bonds when they both notice the needle. Chris’ fears and inability to get away from the danger makes Wesker’s need to protect his mate from that danger all the stronger, and lets out more and more sounds of anger and warning before locking eyes with the scientist, the glare and meaning of his anger obvious.

Birkin pauses, blinking in surprise at Wesker, and finally puts the syringe back, making more notes and muttering too low for Wesker to hear, though he’s still too close to all the other items and Redfield isn’t with Wesker. He can somewhat see his mate out of the corner of his eye, still subtly struggling to free himself and escape. He hopes that he does get out, even if Wesker is stuck here.

At least his mate will be safe, possibly able to get out of here. If he’s able, maybe he can also get Wesker out as well, and then they’ll...well, figure that part out.

Birkin falls quiet, looking up at him before glancing back at Wesker’s mate. Wesker growls again the moment the attention goes to his mate, his hand scratching lightly against the glass as he glares down the scientist. Birkin glances over at Wesker briefly before turning away, still muttering to himself but leaving the two alone. Wesker is quiet, waiting for Birkin to move away before he looks back to Redfield, letting out a sigh as he sees he’s still tense, still fighting his bonds, but seems less worried. Redfield’s brown eyes meet his, a light blush coming to his cheeks before his eyes glance at Wesker’s tail, making him aware of how they have changed. Wesker huffs in annoyance, wrinkling his nose as he looks down at his own tail briefly, the unsightly and decaying skin and scales making him far less appealing for his mate. He blames it on his biology and the way he was taken again - stress had done that to his tail before, but he still twists, self-conscious. When they’d met, Wesker had looked sleek and dangerous, his scales smooth when pushed in the right direction, and Chris had even commented favorably towards his swift healing. Now they made him almost unsightly for his poor mate, though the bruises and cuts he wore showed that, perhaps, his biology was simply mirroring some of Chris’ own pain and suffering.

Though, the fact he noticed and appeared worried also made Wesker’s proud of having such a thoughtful, good mate. He wants to speak to him, touch him, do something to heal his wounds, but he can’t from this too-small tank. After the endless dark and depth of the ocean, being so confined is difficult, and how he dealt with it before he escaped is hard to even fathom. But with how they were treating him now, and all of the new precautions seemed designed to make sure that he didn’t escape again, he’s far more determined to get out with his mate and leave them behind.

“Why did you bring him in?”

The voice of his supposed ‘sister’ makes Wesker curl his lips in disgust, realizing his attention on his mate had stopped him from noticing her entrance until she spoke up. Alex Wesker was far more dangerous to his mate than Birkin would ever be.

“It was the only way to get a reaction out of the subject,” William’s voice is annoyed as he speaks to Alex, the woman crossing her arms as she comes up to look at the two with cold blue eyes. “What, exactly, would you have me do when it comes to him? It’s been two days, and I’m not going to have another violent, insane specimen on our hands!”

Alex is quiet, Wesker watching her before moving a bit away. He’s still in Redfield’s line of sight, but he dislikes being under such scrutiny while with his mate. He also doubts she’ll pause before doing something to Redfield, as Birkin had done, and hates the idea of his mate being anywhere near the woman considered his ‘sister’ by Spencer.

They were not related, as far as he knew, but they had similar colors in some areas - their skin and hair is the only thing he’s ever seen as similar - though she was not a mer like he was, and as far as he knew, she was far weaker than he was, both above and below water. If anything, he believes she simply carried the name of the one who first got them, and thus was only ‘sister’ in that she grew up watching her parent ‘playing’ with them until Birkin took over after the last of his mer-siblings died. He’s always grateful for that, but Alex’s continued presence never made him fully comfortable around any of them, save for Sherry and Birkin.

He tenses minutely when she relaxes her arms, walking over to Redfield purposefully, her shoes clicking ominously over the grates. Wesker’s tail twitches as she gets closer and closer to his mate, anger building as he watches and tries to keep his biology in check, not wanting to give her anything to use against him. At the same time, his biology has already overwhelmed some of his sense, enough that she can see his eyes following her when she gets closer to his mate.

“Seems the idiot who can’t take rules has changed our subject for the worse,” she mutters, a hand going to Redfield’s bruised shoulder, nails digging in. Though Chris’ sounds are muffled, the pained one reaches his ears, at the same time he sees the blood going down his shoulder. Wesker hisses at her, slapping against the glass, angry at the barrier keeping him from tearing out her throat.

How _dare_ she hurt his mate! How _dare_ she do that in front of him! He’ll rend her and feed the pieces to the crabs!

-

The woman’s grip is surprisingly strong, nails biting into his skin quickly. Chris has to focus on breathing as he hears a hard, aggressive pounding on the glass in front of him. That, and Chris using the gag to his advantage when it came to pained sounds, seems to only motivate the sadistic bitch to dig in harder.

Whatever else, Wesker apparently didn’t like these two touching or hurting him, but Chris is beginning to think that him showing that off might be a bad thing. He does his best to not let out more sound than would be swallowed by the cloth gag. That doesn’t help when he starts to see white from the pain and, considering how there’s now a pounding like someone throwing their body against the wall, he guesses he might have let out a muffled cry too.

“I was right. You do make things worse for any of ours that you touch.”

The woman finally lets go, Chris blinking as he feels, then sees, blood running down his chest from where her fingernails had dug in, similar feeling going down his back as well. He looks up slightly as he hears her walk away, her heels clicking on the gangway, watching her go. “I doubt the Tech Sergeant has anything useful for us, and there’s nothing of interest to make him good for testing. The same can be said for the specimen - it’s ruined as much as Rabbitson was ruined by this one. You should have taken care of the trash already.”

Chris risks a glance over at Wesker, seeing the merman all but pacing back and forth, whatever containment unit holding him obviously far too small now for the angry creature. His red eyes seem to glow with the malice as he looked at the woman, whoever she is. Chris can only hope she doesn’t decide to do much else right now, though what she’s said about him already is not exactly stuff he hadn’t heard before. His only fear and concern is the mention of Billy - what did they do to him?

“We haven’t been able to--.”

“If you aren’t able to obtain samples or important test material, then we have no reason to keep either of them. This project is already a failure, we don’t need a reminder of it around for Lord Spencer.” Chris is surprised when she grabs his hair and pulls his head back, manicured nails digging painfully into his scalp as he glares up at her cold blue eyes. He hadn’t heard her walking over, which makes him a bit worried about how far away she might have gotten before coming back.

The sound of slamming against the glass gets Chris to break the  glare, looking over at Wesker as he starts to slam hard against the glass, letting out loud, angry hissing sounds that he’d only heard him do when they’d gotten captured again by Umbrella. He’s looking worse and worse with each hit, angry and irrational, and the glass starts to take on small, almost hairline fracture as the scientist guy from before races over. Abruptly, the pain in his head disappears as the man angrily says, “Are you insane, Alex? Whatever is going on with the specimen, he’s attached to the Sergeant, and that’s important research!”

“How, exactly?” the angry tone didn’t stop Chris from glancing up at Wesker as he slammed against the glass a few more times, the sound of footsteps walking away getting him to twist and try to follow them. The Alex woman was following the scientist with a look that said she wasn’t impressed by whatever quiet argument he was trying to make.

The sudden lack of sound makes Chris look over to the tank, watching Wesker swim around angrily, bruising forming on his pale skin and the flaking or whatever was going on with his tail now starting to look like the scales were actually peeling off. Chris shifts again, pain lacing through his shoulder briefly as he does. He goes back to trying to figure out the best way to escape his bonds, though the rope is expertly tied, enough at least to stop a hurt person from escaping. He’s glad for the lull in toture, at least, though now he’s beginning to really think on what he’s overheard, and how Wesker’s acting. Like he’s trying to protect him--

_Ok, why the hell would he? Because he thinks I’m worth something? Because he likes me? That doesn’t happen in the animal kingdom...right? Or if it did, how would we...I mean...yeah, he’s hot, really hot but...does he…?_

_You’re tied up and trying to figure out where the fishman keeps his penis, lovely Redfield. Priorities!_

The final attempt to pull himself loose of the ropes only served to shoot pain from his wrist up his arm, getting Chris to inhale sharply before forcing himself to relax. He briefly turns to look for the two, but doesn’t spot them, instead glancing back to the still, worried and agitated Wesker. It’s almost...annoying, seeing him stuck in a tank like that. He looked so much better out in the islands, even when they were in a massive fight. Chris isn’t sure what they did to him, or what had happened between their capture and seeing each other again, only that he wants to  get Wesker out of here again, let him find his own kind and maybe be free from this horrible situation.

The sound and vibration of heavy boots, as well as Wesker suddenly swimming back to the broken glass that was starting to leak water, gets Chris to twist and try to look before his chair is yanked back. Chris sees the water start to disappear from Wesker’s tank at the sound of some frantic typing. Wesker moves to try to get to one of the openings connecting to the pipes on the side and larger areas of the base, obviously upset with the sudden dividing of his attention. Chris does his best to fight the men who come to pick him up, moving him to one side and making him stand awkwardly. They untie and retie his arms and legs in a way that makes it near impossible to swim on his own, the chair set loudly to the side. He glances over at Wesker again as the merman tries to move, the water getting too low for him to maneuver well as he lets out more high-pitched sounds and low growls. Chris struggles as he’s pulled to the open grate nearby. The hole itself leads to dark water he can’t see the bottom of, murky with something he can’t identify but that probably shouldn’t be in an area that is otherwise so sterile. The scientist looks at him with contempt, then glances back at Wesker. “Solve the maze if you want to get to him.”

Chris tries to draw in as much of a breath as he can, but a sudden hit against his solar plexus pushes it back out in a rush, right before he’s pitched forward and sinks below the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm def not sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker rushes to save Chris, only for them both to learn something that could mark the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like Alex Wesker. She's a bad villain with a bad idea for a virus. She deserves every rocket launched at her in Revelations 2. I want regular Wesker back...
> 
> I've also been updating the story, so if there are changes you noticed in the last few chapters and here, that's why. I need to get Chris and Wesker out, and I was stuck. so, now, better ending!

Wesker lets out a yell as his mate goes into the water, the last of the water in his containment area starting to get to where he’s all but crawling, scales dragging harshly, painfully, against the glass before the openings all finally release at once. The panic thrumming through his veins, _demanding_ he save his mate, he kill those that harmed him, has to take a back seat as his brain quickly glances at the ones and he picks the entrance, having to pull himself up and down a few feet before he’s in water and quickly swimming through the half-filled to full tubes and towards the darkness. There’s a great deal of bends and turns, of other ways he can go, and he has to be quick, to remember the routes he’d learned while being tested before. Whatever Will is doing, whatever he’s playing at with how he’s treating Wesker and Redfield, he’s getting on Wesker’s nerves. If he’s not careful…

Wesker banishes the thoughts, his arms and body aching and his tail throbbing in pain as he finally makes it out to the open, dark tank under the flooring, moving quickly as his eyes adjust for the darkness, silent clicks of sonar finding his mate’s sinking body quickly as he turns and swims in the direction of it, fear starting to pull at his intelligence and force instinct to take over.

This is _her_ tank, and Chris’s falling too far, too deep, sinking deeply in the heavy water. Wesker can sense her already, having sensed the sonar he’d had to send out to find Chris. Wesker shivers at the sudden screaming sound that comes from the depths as he speeds up. He can see his mate now, and the sound going through water makes his mate’s body unconsciously shudder even as he takes in a breath full of water and struggles weakly.

 _He can’t survive underwater, I have to get him, get away from here, get away from_ her _, get him safe, my mate needs to be safe, I need…_

Wesker pushes the thought away as he pushes himself forward to his mate, another scream making his instincts go haywire in conflict, the need to get to his mate and save him overwhelming the fear. He finally grabs Redfield, pulling the body close to him and swimming up in a desperate attempt to get him back to the surface and to air. He can feel the hard body of his mate pressed against him, but without any of the same struggle or breath he’s used to. He can’t pause to give him breath, to share it with him, not with the sound of _her_ getting closer and closer to them from somewhere in the dark.

The screaming that got closer and his mate’s slack body against him pushes Wesker harder than ever, a race to reach safety and air for his mate. He doesn’t even slow when he gets to lighter water, barely holding in an angry sound as he notices how close the water is to the top, that there was no good air pockets for his mate. The lack of screams and moans calm him enough to think, eyes quickly looking around before looking back to his mate, who is starting to look worse and worse. He shifts his mate in his arms, quickly moving to get near his mouth, pulling out the gag they’d left in and sealing his mouth over his mate’s, pushing breath into him quickly. He swims slowly, carefully mapping his way back to the pipe he’d come from. Part of it didn’t have water, a huge chunk of his missing scales and still-healing side could attest to that, meaning it would have air inside _somewhere_. The water was finite, meaning to remove it from his tank, they had to put it elsewhere, and not all of that was in the pipes he’d navigated. Not with how overly-full this one seemed to be.

Wesker stays near the surface, feeling life come back into his mate’s body as they breathe together, until Wesker finds the opening and pushes them up into it. Unlike when he came down, it’s only a little ways above the opening before they reach open air, barely enough to even be fully hidden in the pipe from _her_ tank.

Redfield draws in air with a rasping gasp as they get out of the water and Wesker stops having to breathe for him, coughing and spitting out whatever liquid he’d taken in. Wesker helps him up and over the edge to the bend, following his mate up and quickly examining the ropes that had kept his mate bound and sinking. They’re tied tightly, and Wesker lets out a growl of frustration, trying the knots but unable to get them released. He hates that his mate is tied like that and helpless - he’d proven himself resourceful and powerful, able to survive before Wesker tried to kill him, and having given him food and done his best to protect him from the Russian and his “men”. To put him into such a situation and hurt him like this only makes Wesker’s earlier anger return.

He briefly hears the screams from far below, pulling himself further up and dragging his still-coughing mate with him. He hears Redfield cursing as Wesker’s tail wraps around his bound legs, trying to keep him up and get him as far into the pipe as he can.

 _She_ is normally at the bottom of the tank, but that doesn’t mean she won’t come up and try to kill them. Wesker grits his teeth, in frustration and from pain as his already painful tail protests from the movement along the pipe, trying to think. He’s got one arm wrapped around his mate’s waist, so he feels when he shifts to sit up slightly, looking back as another sound, this one a dark moan, echoes deeper from where they are.

“What the hell was that?” Redfield asks breathlessly, Wesker looking at him and then back down, trying to see if he can spot _her_. Knowing where the insane experiment is, especially when the opening to her tank is still nearby, would make things easier on them, but he’s also not sure if Birkin will put water into the pipes to get them back out either. He looks up and around, but the maze has sent him too far from his original, now-broken tank, and he’s unclear where he will have to go if they give him this puzzle again.

His worry now is if the water will come up from the tank, or if it’ll push them back down. At the same time, Wesker realizes that he does need to care for his mate. He’s still hurt, still trapped in a knots and ropes, and Wesker shifts, pulling him a bit closer as he starts to work on the ropes.

“Hey.”

Body now aligned with Chris’, Wesker nuzzles against Chris’ neck as he licks at the wounds and blood, grateful to be so close. He’d been afraid for his mate, afraid of what would happen if he hadn’t reached him in time, and now? Now that thing is below them, probably plotting how to get to them after scenting blood in the filthy water.

He doesn’t want Umbrella to know how much he understands, because it’s the one thing he hopes to use against them in their escape. For now, cleaning out the wounds his mate got would be best, and let Birkin and the others struggle to figure it out. He needs to care for his mate, now that they’re somewhat safe.

Chris’ breath hitches at his closeness, and he smells of sweat and stink, of others who aren’t Wesker, and of the putrid, dark water he’d been dumped into. His blood is coppery-sweet, not tasting any sort of foulness from infection or disease, which he has to see as good. Wesker wonders what Chris normally smells like when he’s simply enjoying the water, simply in the ocean and happy, living, not trapped and with stress and fear clogging his pores.

“Fine, don’t answer,” Chris mutters, sounding strangely breathless, as he shifts a bit to get them somewhat further into the small space, hissing in some pain as he looks up and around. “Anyway we can get out of here? Or away from...whatever that thing is?”

Wesker keeps his tail wrapped around Redfield’s legs carefully, realizing suddenly how tired his mate might be, possibly as tired as he is. He wishes he could have gotten Redfield’s hands released by now, at least to allow him that thing to use. Wesker wraps his arms around Redfield instead, attempting to figure out the knot to keep himself occupied after seeing the wounds Alex left begin to heal. He doesn’t know what to tell Redfield, and isn’t sure he can quietly explain things without someone picking up on the sound. They need _something_ to use, something that might help them against the others. Alex is smart enough to figure it out, and loyal enough to tell Spencer.

 _If she tells, they could try to drive me mad. I won’t let them hurt my mate again. I won’t let them_ touch _him again. I will burn all that this place is, before I allow them to even think of hurting my mate again._

-

Chris looks up at the plexiglass near his face, grateful for the air but also very, very confused and trying very, _very_ hard to not think about the merman currently all but lounging on his lap, head resting against his shoulder, fingers moving against the skin of his wrist and arms briefly as he examines the rope. Not to mention that earlier he’d been _licking_ his cuts, breathing lightly against his skin, and all but kissing his wounds better. Chris focuses back on Wesker tracing the knot over listening to his dumb mind going back to those horrible thoughts and Chris’ new kink.

The knots were pretty tight, but the continued movement of Wesker’s fingers over his arms have loosened up some of the other rope parts, so he does his best to not think about the hot breath against his neck, the cool body pressing him to where he’s about to just lie down and hope the merman can get them off when he has a better sight of it. Of course, that instantly puts his mind into areas it shouldn’t go, ones that are not helped as the merman shifts on his lap, the change in weight getting Chris to fall back a bit as Wesker mumbles something against his shoulder before he moves again, twisting to be on the side and getting Chris to twist as well, but that doesn’t stop them all from being lined up where his penis is starting to take interest.

 _SHIT_ , he’s about to get a hard-on from a _fish_. Bad enough he’d molested the poor bastard those two, three days ago when he was trying to help, now they’re in a life-or-death situation and he’s starting to think about how would they, if they did, or the fact that for all his glaring, the merman, a literal _fish-man_ , is kinda hot.

Chris shifts a bit to the side, trying hard to think of something potentially bad when sounds like a scream suddenly reverberates through the tank, shaking even the plexiglass they’re lying on, and getting Wesker’s tail to tighten around Chris’ legs, at least one of his hands gripping Chris’s wrist at the sound.

Well, that was a boner-killer, _whatever_ that thing in the deep was. His muscles spasm in an aborted panic, breath picking up as he turns to try to look, seeing only opaque darkness through the glass before Wesker shifts, turning Chris to the side while he moves behind, tail still wrapped around Chris’ legs, but chest now pushed against Chris’ back, and where his hips would be in a very, _very_ obvious place. There’s a pause before Wesker pulls him close again, more feeling of licks along his shoulder as Chris focuses on breathing and not on how this looks, feels, or what thoughts have entered into his mind again.

_This shit is what got you in trouble in the first place! Not...well, not with a merman but still! Control yourself!_

So he’d met Billy at the _only_ gay bar in Raccoon, and he’d kept him safe and lent an ear, but Chris hadn’t done anything with him besides listen to him and offer up his friendship. That was what Billy had been looking for and what he got. Yes, maybe Chris liked guys sometimes and maybe once or twice there’d been stuff, but this is going from ‘this thing is going to kill me’ to ‘fuck me now’ and Chris would appreciate a moment to...well, talk or eat or something!

Ok, the time at the island could count as that, but they were still running for their lives!

Wesker seems to mutter something against his skin, which only served to make Chris’ boner return with a vengeance, as he begins to try to pull off the rope again, hands once more tracing lightly along his arms and back and moving to near his waist. To the merman’s credit, the rope did begin to loosen, slowly allowing Chris to shift a bit and pull his wrists and arms loose. He also started thinking every possible thought that didn’t include the comfortable, warm, naked... _no, stop there, Redfield, bad!_

Chris lets out a sigh of relief as he manages to get his hands free, quickly moving to undo the rope around his legs, the narrow passage their in meaning he has to shift a few more times in order to bend enough to reach them. Chris, before being stranded for a week on various sandbars, had been in great shape, and while he’s not exactly let himself go while running for his life. Now, he’d gone through two or more days of torture and pain, aching and still hurt in various places, bruises forming from his fights with the crazy Russian and his two demented...whatever they were…, the ‘attention’ he’d gotten from Umbrella agents, and now from the deep scratches that blond-haired witch had left on his shoulders. He can only do his best to get free and moved a bit further up in the tube, blinking when he sees... _something_...moving below them before glancing at the merman.

Wesker’s sides were showing signs of bruising as well, but like before they’re starting to heal up, the darker colors fading back to his natural pale skin. What’s more worrying, though, are his scales. When Chris had had to touch them to take off the rope on his legs, they’d felt the same as when he’d picked up Wesker the first time, like a shark’s scales. However, now there are patches of them that are almost slimy and strange, while a large chuck that fell off near his hip is red-raw, looking like it had been torn off. Chris shifts, looking over at Wesker in worry as the merman checks the wounds, shifting in obvious annoyance, before moving closer to Chris, eyes meeting his. Chris shifts at the scrutiny before saying, “Let’s at least try to get out of here. Or further up. I don’t need to face whatever that thing is.”

A sudden mechanical sound got their attention, the bottom of the tube closing off and with only a bit of water in it, right as something like a octopus’ tentacle, with jagged spines and something else in it that makes it look fairly deadly, hits the bottom and there’s another scream. Chris curses as Wesker’s tail slaps on the pipe, showing his own panic, before the sucker pops off and the monster seems content with leaving. Chris lets himself lay down briefly, grateful for the merman, before he looks back to the closed thing with the dirty water. He glances between the two ways before moving a bit forward, looking at the bend and cursing again.

This isn’t going to be easy, but it’ll get them somewhere, at least.

-

Wesker lets out a huff of annoyance as Redfield moves and looks around the tube they’re in, apparently oblivious to the fact that his erection is starting to push through his pouch or...whatever Humans had to protect their sex organs. Wesker’s more upset over the loss of contact with the man - resting on and near  him, even if the need was to make sure he was fine and to release him from the ropes, had been a wonderful experience. Wesker wishes to do so again, to coil around his mate, their pouches aligned again like that, moving slowly as they--

A sudden rush of water has them scrambling as Wesker reaches out and grabs his mate, hoping to keep Chris above water, or to not lose him in the deluge that nearly pushes them back to the tank again. Wesker starts swimming right before they hear the mechanical click and renewed scream, along with something scratching and rattling against the glass.

The maze of tubes is almost all flooded fully, though pockets of air remain in areas that quickly disappear as they race to stay ahead of _her_. They barely manage to get up and around a difficult and tight are before the water seems to disappear, Chris doing his best to pull them along as Wesker now see the thing that had been hiding in the tank at the bottom. Chris curses as well, his mate pushing him up and over a low bend before jumping up right before another mechanical lock closes, the octopus-like mer slamming past it as the tentacles and spines on the end scratch at the surface and an angry growl rings through the glass. He hears his mate curse again, panting from the rush they’d gone through before looking around, moving to help Wesker through a bit more of the tubes. He does his best to make sure his fins and tail don’t drag before they get to one of the smaller tanks, the monstrosity that _she_ had become moaning and moving as more and more mechanical sounds activate around her.

Wesker focuses on the tank, moving in and landing hard in the too-low water as his mate comes in after him. The tanke is barely larger enough for him, and like the tubes, it’s crowded with his mate here.

Still, it’s better than the tubes, and both jump when the final door closes behind them, trapping them here.

“Specimen has shown concern and team-working with the Human subject after reintroduction,” Birkin’s voice makes Wesker shift  and swim a tight circle around Chris, getting his mate to give him a funny look as he walks around the area, going slow due to how high the water is for him, reaching near to the top of his legs and where his erection had been poking out before they’d had to race away. Wesker quickly swims around the tank and then back to circle around Chris again, looking his mate over once more. His own bruises are healing up, but Chris is still showing the signs of abuse that the others did to him, burns from the rope now evident on his wrists and ankles where the ropes had been taken off. His mate lets out a surprised sound when Wesker comes up and touches his wrist, holding it lightly as he licks a bit of it. The wounds on his shoulders had seemed to heal from it, and while the bruises aren’t showing signs of going down, he thinks they’re healing a bit faster. The one near his eye is at least not so dark and swollen.

Wesker checks on both wrists before using a powerful push of his tail to be briefly at the same eye-level as his mate, wrapping his arms around the shoulders so he can stay up and look him over. He hears Birkin make a sound that’s almost like surprise or disgust, he can’t be bothered to tell. Wesker instead focuses on his mate and trying to make sure he’s alright, that there’s nothing too bad with him. As things are now, he can easily look him over, blinking as he notices the blush spreading over his mate’s cheeks, even feeling the light push against where his pouch is.

He’s more interested in the blush, looking it over as Chris mutters, “I’m fine, you can let go,” a bit worriedly. Wesker wants to ask if it’s the push against his pouch that’s making Chris’ blush start to move down his neck, but right now it only makes his mate look that much sweeter.

Wesker nuzzles against Chris’ neck, the smell still making him wish to put his own there, that he could easily be with his mate and figure things out. Chris shifts a bit, one hand slowly tracing along Wesker’s fin and scales again to help with the weight. The other slowly moves to where some of the skin had fanned out, lightly pulling it off and running a hand slowly over the scales there. Wesker hums in approval, tail moving slightly as Chris struggles to stay upright, breath getting a bit more ragged even as his sex presses against the cloth and Wesker’s pouch. His mate stumbles slightly and Wesker nearly gets him into the water, but his mate manages to right himself before he can. Chris tries to get Wesker off of him, and grunts a bit when Wesker won’t let go.

“Specimen seems to be highly...amorous...with the human subject.” Birkin’s voice is louder than it needs to be, but it works enough to get Wesker to turn and glare at him. Birkin’s pointed look is enough to send Wesker sliding back into the water,his mood sour.

He wonders if maybe giving Chris some of his blood will help him heal? It will at least give Birkin something else to gaggle at beyond Wesker and his mate, especially when he’d been so harmful to them. Glancing back at Chris, he sees his mate looking almost upset with something, shifting away in the small tank and not quite looking at Wesker. He seemed almost...ashamed.

The thought gets Wesker to move a bit, circling his mate again as Chris looks annoyed. What was there for his mate to be ashamed about? Wesker wondered if this was Birkin’s doing, and glanced over at the scientist before he sees Alex coming in. He quickly moves in front of his mate, as ineffective as it might be with how low the water levels were.

“You said you were going to get rid of him.”

“I said we’d study him,” Birkin argues back angrily, “and we managed to get them to lure out the Trevor one, what--”

“The Trevor one should have been dealt with ages ago, but you decided to foster it because of what we might study. You’re doing it again with this one too. The W Project is over, as per Lord Spencer. Your ‘human subject’ is more trouble than he’s worth, ruining the only specimen left of it, and why you didn’t simply dispose of it like I said, I don’t know, Birkin. Do you think your place here is safe, after Marcus ‘disappeared’? Or are you delusional enough to think I’ll accept whatever hormone you pull from the two specimens you were allowed to play with?” She walks along, circling Birkin like a shark would its intended prey, but Wesker’s seen sharks. She only had words to back her up - sharks had actual teeth.

_Yet with Birkin, the words might cut as badly as a shark’s tooth._

“Dispose of them. We don’t need defective specimens, nor do we need a subject that will only encourage bad behavior. The projects are done.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birkin plots, and Chris and Wesker manage their escape.

Will waits until Alex is gone before cursing quietly at the files. The human - Tech Sergeant Chris Redfield - is shifting worriedly in the smaller tank and looks ready to fight if things come to it. Wesker - Sherry named him after hearing his code, and it stuck, at least in Birkin’s mind - circles the small tank incessantly, the caudal fin cutting the top of the water and glowing red eyes glaring in his direction.

He sighs. With the transfer of saliva via the open wound, it’s likely that Redfield’s DNA would be primed for change, but considering the shed scales Wesker left behind in his mad dash to get the human back, it’s more likely that Wesker is the one undergoing the changes.

He leaves the two and goes to his lab to look over the surveillance feeds. It appears a small strike team is in place. Alex, arrogant as she is, has not noticed it. He’s amazed that she and Lord Spencer never thought ahead about what kidnapping a soldier would lead to, but then again, they have always considered themselves above the rules of mere mortals. His predecessor running this place thought so too, until Will casually dumped him into Lisa’s tank after tiring of the man’s attitude. He has seen enough of how things are run to know that he himself will mostly likely end up killed by the next up-and-comer.

He has to plan this right. The best thing to do now would be to open all the ways out under the guise of sending Lisa after them. He can then claim that he tried to dispose of the two, but the failsafe resulted in all the exits opening. The water is distributed in such a way that he knows Wesker, even when panicked, can figure out what he is planning to do.

The test he is running on Wesker’s scales beeps upon completion. He scans the readout with a frown. He had taken some samples when Wesker returned, and this sample is two days later…

_What’s going on?_

If he isn’t so busy trying to get everything together so he can leave, he’d definitely look into it further, but...this is like…

He remembers having found and read a copy of “The Little Mermaid” while getting books for Sherry’s room. It was a worn copy of an older version of the tale. After reading it, he had quickly discarded it in favor of the Disney version, which quickly became her favorite story, especially after she saw Wesker for the first time.

But now, he can only think of the sea-witch’s warnings, and the Mermaid’s pain as she danced for her prince. He ponders on the original ending and what he sees in Wesker’s blood and scales.

 _You’d better be good to him,_ he thinks as he finishes up and readies to release Lisa, _or else you’ll have worse things than a witch to deal with, Redfield._

-

“Fuck,” Chris curses as time passes and no one returns after the scientist leaves. “This isn’t good.”

“Chris.”

Already on-edge, he almost jumps at Wesker’s voice.

“Something’s wrong.”

He nods. The lights around them start to dim, while the sound of the monster they’d been running from grows louder. He glances at it, seeing its grayish-brown skin, the red spines, and the deformed mix of squid and human parts. It reminds him of something from her sister’s science books - a picture of a vampire squid, a nightmarish creature from the deep with spines for suckers.

As much as he fears the thing, it’s been mutated and changed so much that he almost feels pity for it.

“Wesker…”

His worry must have been warranted, because there’s only a short blare of the siren before all of gates over the pipes begin to open. Wesker rushes over to him and he helps the merman up one of the tubes. The monster starts forward, its shrieks echoing through the network of tanks and pipes.

Wesker holds back a gasp, his tail scraping against the glass. Chris does his best to help him along. The scratching and shrieking get closer as they force themselves through the narrow pipes, leaving behind behind a long trail of blood and shark skin.

“Left,” Wesker whispers. He follows Wesker’s orders without question. They reach a larger tank that’s filled almost to the top with water, forcing them to dive under to proceed. Wesker now takes the lead, swimming fast, then pauses, as if confused. Chris can’t help but glance back a few times when he hears a splash from behind them. Wesker eventually decides on a direction that leads into another water-filled maze of pipes. His lungs burning for air as he works to keep up.

Wesker pulls him close as they near a bend, kissing him hard and breathing air into his lungs. It’s still tastes like sea-salt, but he reaches to grip Wesker’s hand this time, not sure if he really dislikes the taste of it. At least this way, he’s getting air, right?

_Yes, that’s all this is, nothing more...nothing at all._

They break and swim some more, finally reaching another tank. This one looks older and has a hatch that appears to lead into the lab, but it looks like it can only be opened from the other side. He sucks in a breath and dives back under, swimming to a portal that leads to another pipe. He slams against the glass in the way, trying to force it open. Of course, it’s locked.

Wesker moves back and forth in agitation as the monster gets closer. Wringing his hands in exasperation, he presses against the glass and hopes to find something that will help them.

He sees some familiar silhouettes on the other side. Hardly able to believe his luck, he swims to the surface for a breath of air.

“BARRY! JILL!” He yells and pounds at the glass of the tank.

“CHRIS!” He hears Jill’s shout, which sounds muffled from across the glass.  

“Jill, open the hatch!”

“Chris, what the--”

“JILL! Open it now!”

She must see the monster approaching, because she finally moves. The hatch hisses open. He quickly grabs Wesker and pushes him through, before getting out himself. He lands hard on the ground, his limbs feeling heavy after he’s been in the water for so long. The squid monster following them reaches the tank. Jill and Barry barely manage push the door shut before it gets out. Thwarted, it slams into the door repeatedly in a rage.

“What the heck is...”

He avoids Jill’s question about either the thing or Wesker, instead pulling Wesker up with a quiet “sorry” as the rescue group - judging from how decked out they were - looks at him.

“No offense, Barry, Jill, but can the questions wait?”

“Chris, you’re carrying a mermaid.”

“...he’s a guy, Jill.”

“We can leave you two here, you know that right?”

The continued slamming of the monster against the hatch gets them all to turn.

“That glass won’t last if they don’t want it too. Can we go?” He reasons.

“I’m with Sergent Redfield,” says a young woman with her brown hair in a pageboy cut, and the white suit of a medic, “Rebecca Chambers. I’m the medic. Do you and your... friend need help?”

She examines them briefly before Jill motions for everyone to start moving. He hefts Wesker up onto his back, trying to ignore the tail moving to wrap around his leg. Barry and Jill take the front and they race out of the facility.

Wesker groans as they continue their escape. More of his scales are shedding off, leaving behind raw, bloody patches.

“Shit, we need to get you into water, or...fuck…” He doesn’t want Wesker to die, especially not when they are so close to being out, but he has no clue what the hell is happening to him. “We’re gonna get to the sea soon, you can get out there and…”

“I’m coming with you,” Wesker growls, surprising the others, “I’m not leaving.”

Ok, that...might…

_YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A TUB IN YOUR RATTY-ASS APARTMENT, REDFIELD! Where will he actually stay?_

“You’re not made for land, you dumbass, I’m not going to be responsible for you dying!”

“Chris, as much as I love watching your drama, can we maybe escape first?” Barry asks, getting an evil eye from both of them. “I’m just saying, this is Umbrella, they’re not known for asking questions first.”

Rebecca hurries over with a wet blanket and wraps it around Wesker, who looks put-upon but relaxes eventually. Chris picks him up again, bridal-style.

“I’m staying,” Wesker mutters as they continue through the facility. “Mine...I’m staying with what’s mine.”

Chris lets out a breath slowly. “Not sure if we should start declaring who we belong to after just three days of knowing each other.”

“My mate.”

_Please be the British version, please be the...who the fuck am I kidding, obviously it’s not._

“You really know how to pick ‘em, Chris,” Jill smirks as Barry looks skyward. The man is like a father to him, so of course he blushes madly.

“I thought we’re supposed to save our drama for later.”

“Your mermaid started it.”

“Why are we friends again?”

Wesker lets out a huff and turns his head into Chris’s shoulder. Chris tries to give him a reassuring look. He worries about the pain that Wesker is obviously in, not to mention the blood seeping through the blanket. While Wesker has never been much of a conversationalist, the silence is making him uneasy.

“It’s not much farther,” Barry promises during a short break. Rebecca begins to wrap Wesker’s tail in bandages until it looks like the lower half a mummy. Wesker looks at her handiwork and hides his face in Chris’s shoulder.

Jill tries to stealthily pull out her phone.

“Don’t you dare,” Chris says. She has too much blackmail material on him already.

The entire building begins to shake. Everyone tries to stay standing while he holds Wesker close.

Another shudder runs through the building. They take off again, not planning to stay around if the building collapses. He briefly wonders where the guards who’d been so willing to “talk” to him before have gone. Probably killed by his rescue team or trying to escape like they are.

His question is answered when they pass by the sound of gunshots and yelling.

“So it’s probably a good thing that monster got out,” Barry says, looking disgusted by what they are seeing.

While ripping apart the guards, the monster lets out another screech that sounds far more ominous above water than below.

They get into the open towards helicopter. Brad Vickers is at the controls, looking almost ready to bolt. Looks like they’re not a moment too early. There are a few other copters scattered around the area.  

“You’re not the only person of interest they got here, Chris,” Jill says in response to the confused look that must be on his face, “Umbrella bit off more than they could chew.”

He believes her. Feeling relieved, he slides down to sit on the copter’s floor as it takes off. Rebecca busies herself with reapplying bandages to Wesker still-shedding tail and dabbing antiseptic on Chris’s cuts. Wesker, for his part, remains silent with his eyes closed through the whole ordeal, though it’s hard to say if he’s sleeping, unconscious, or just not in the mood to talk.

“Chris, what are you going to do about him?” Jill asks carefully.

He is hoping that wouldn’t come up, or at least might wait until...he’s not sure, maybe never. What would he do with a merman who likes him? He can easily get enough compensation to live on a beach on some tropical island and just be happy there, or get a lakeside cabin if Wesker can also tolerate fresh water, but people are probably going to ask questions if there’s a merman with him. Wherever they will go, they are going to get mobbed at best, or killed at worst, like when that woman demanded the “project” be terminated before siccing that monster on them.

He looks down at Wesker’s admittedly handsome features. They’ve been through a lot in the past few days. He’s been called a “mate” - which he is totally not freaking out over, no, no way, why would you think that after the one time Claire had forced him to watch Planet:Earth and now his mind is going over the worst-case scenarios of animals who mate for life and lose their mates and _focus, Redfield!_

“Chris.”

“I don’t know, Jill. But I’m not going to let him be experimented on. If he said he didn’t want to go back to being alone, I don’t see why that should happen either.”

Barry looks over him for a long moment, as if curious what more he would say. The older man has been like a father to him ever since he joined the Air Force, and is a great person to confide in. Some part of him wants to have Barry help, or accept, or just… something.

He lets out a sigh again, wrapping his other arm around Wesker’s waist and pulling him close. “Whatever else, I just...I want to help him. He helped me out, and I...I don’t want anyone to call him a ‘specimen’ or ‘project’ again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Jill and Barry! (yays!)
> 
> Also while lullite is waiting for my muses to return to the OTHER Resident Evil story I started and to get away from the slightly depressing story, she's doing beta work. Everyone thank her, I do sometimes need the help ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having escaped the Umbrella facility, Wesker learns a bit more about his mate.
> 
> ...sex, they have sex. This is the sex chapter.

The smell of the sea and the feeling of a warm body against his wakes Wesker. He’s on a small cot, half of him on top of his mate, who is asleep. He remembers pretending to be asleep while his mate and the other humans spoke. His mate had been determined to keep him safe, and kept him close with arms around his shoulder and waist. They had gotten in the flying thing - the helicopter - and flown far away from the research facility, then he and Chris had gone to stay in a tent of some sort. The young female from before had arrived to treat him, and even got a large container of seawater for him to rest in. She then stayed around for a while, despite his glaring, and spoke to his mate.

“We’re hiding him, but...we have to be quick,” the female had said.

“I know. Are you ok with this, Rebecca? You might get in trouble.”

“I get it. Hopefully we’ll have good news, then.”

He banishes the memories. It’s been a day since they arrived here, and they have mostly been left to their own devices. It’s given him time to relax, to be with his mate, and to wonder, again, how things will turn out.

He looks at his tail, which is starting to hurt even more, starting from his waist and all the way down to the tip of his fin.

It usually takes between two to three hours before he starts to feel the strain of being out of water, and five before he needs to go back in water badly. His body has never hurt like this without being out of water for too long or being injured. He wishes for something that would put an end to the pain, but he needs to be ready for the escape plan his mate and the others are trying to come up with. The two of them won’t be separated again, not when the last time had resulted in Chris being injured.

He shifts more of his body onto Chris, enjoying the feeling of being on top. Draping his tail over his mate’s legs, he nuzzles against Chris’s neck. His mate’s scent is starting to come back. It reminds him of the sea and sky, like the sense of freedom and calm he felt when he got out the first time, when he escaped to the ocean and could go anywhere he wanted.

He licks and kisses a line up his mate’s neck and to his stubbled jaw, tasting the light sheen of sweat. A groan rumbles through Chris’s chest. The brown eyes flutter open.

“Wesker….”

He hums, continuing to lick and kiss. Chris’s arms wrap around his shoulders and back, pulling him up and lining up their bodies. His mate lets out a perfect moan and whispers breathless words against his lips and skin. He takes in his healing, vigorous mate. This human is his, is perfect for him, for--

Chris lets out an unintelligible curse and arches up again, making him shiver. He feels a slight nudge into his pouch. It’s slick and like nothing he’s felt before, but at the same time, he loves it. He pushes back. Chris initially looks disconcerted, but soon begins to move his hips and make noises of yearning. He can’t hold back a shiver himself at the foreign but pleasurable sensation of his mate slowly thrusting into him, as if testing to make sure it is not harming him. Hands roam the sensitized skin of his body, learning how it differs from his mate’s own. He purrs in approval as Chris moves faster and picks up a rhythm. His own organ slides along his mate’s sweat-slick skin and the small bit of hair over his mate’s groin.  

“Shit, that...are you...Wesker...fuck…”

His mate can’t even string a sentence together, though he himself is in a similar state. Face flushed, Chris makes an urgent sound that seems to indicate that he is getting close. He licks and kisses at his mate’s face to taste more of the salty sweat. This seems to spur Chris into speeding up, his whole body tensing in pleasure.

“Close, so close... Wesker…” Chris pulls him closer briefly before pushing deeper into him, shivering. He groans as warmth floods into his pouch. They lay together for a while, utterly spent. Eventually, Chris looks at him.

“W...are….you’re ok?”

He nuzzles against Chris, who sounds worried. Is there something he can do for his mate? His pouch closes up as his organ retracts. He grimaces at the odd feeling inside of him. His mate doesn’t have a pouch - he’d pulled Chris’s clothing open and his organ had been ready to slide in, but there was no place to do so. Some part of him wants his mate to have a pouch, but he can’t quite figure out why.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replies, still trying to sort out these strange thoughts.

“You’re a horrible liar,” his mate mutters.

He turns his nose up imperiously, but there’s an unexpected burst of pain. His tail feels like it’s being split in two, and he is barely able to hold in a scream. Chris startles, jostling him and causing his vision to momentarily go dark. When he’s aware again, the pain is still over the entirety of his tail and up his spine. He’s resting in the container of water. His tail, once covered with sleek scales, is a sorry sight. The bare patches that used to be a raw red are starting to turn strangely pale. A depression is forming along the midline of his tail, like his body is wasting away. The unpleasant changes are enough to sour his mood.

He lets out an irate hiss when someone enters the tent uninvited - it’s Birkin. Alarmed, his mate moves protectively in front of him and yells a “What the hell is he doing here?” to the brown-haired female who helped them escape. The helpful younger female, Rebecca, is also there.

The older brown-haired female crosses her arms. “Chris, he’s one of the people who--”

“He’s not coming near Wesker, Jill. I don’t care what he did to help you get us out!” His mate’s tone is dangerous. Despite this, the female doesn’t flinch, looking at both of them in an irritating way.

Birkin looks almost fearful and shifts uncomfortably on his feet, like he wants to leave. The female marches forward, grabs Chris by the arm, and pulls him out of the way. Wesker hisses out another warning, only to get the female’s cold blue eyes on him as she drags Chris out of the tent. Once the two are gone, Birkin slowly approaches with a bag. Wesker attempts to shift back in the container of water, suddenly disliking how limited this space is.

Birkin puts the bag down and looks over at him, as if worried. “If you’re done acting out, I can explain what’s going on with you.”

Another spasm of pain jolts through his body, which brings Rebecca to his side. Despite Birkin’s presence, he relaxes around the female. She has proven herself trustworthy by healing him and his mate during the escape.

“Your species, from what we’ve seen, has a few variants. However, attempts to select for specific traits were not particularly successful. You are the only specimen remaining... save for one earlier experiment.” Birkin shakes his head.

“The research facility’s exploded and there’s nothing left,” Rebecca supplies as she checks over the bare patches on his tail.

He doubts the “other experiment” is dead, since she has survived being attacked multiple times in various ways.  

“The main point being, there is one feature of your physiology that Alex Wesker and Lord Spencer never showed interested in, that we couldn’t eliminate without...consequences...because it is the basis for survival of your species.”

He can guess what feature Birkin is referring to, remembering the fight with Chris and the thoughts that he tried to push away, only to have them return time and time again. When finally push came to shove, when all he could do was move without thinking as they ran from Sergei and his “brothers,” his mind and biology had simply synced up.  

He snarls in warning when Birkin tries to approach with the bag. Instead, Birkin hands Rebecca the various items in the bag so she can test him instead. He doesn’t resist her.

He trusted Birkin once, but the human can’t be trusted again after nearly killing his mate.

“Should you find an individual whom your biology deems compatible, your body will undergo changes to make you more appealing, to increase the likelihood that you and your offspring will be cared for. The more compatible the individual, the more likely your body will change in order entice them to stay and provide for you and any offspring.”

He blinks and looks down his tail, finally figuring out what’s happening.

Legs… His tail is turning into legs.

“How long each change will last is unknown, but it’s unlikely to be for a lifetime. Your species seems primed to change multiple times over the course of your life, and are about as fertile as humans, if not more so.”

The clinical way Birkin says it makes his eyes narrow in annoyance. Birkin doesn’t notice, more intent on figuring out which instrument to give Rebecca next, and continues on. “The first changes started after you were returned. I assume this happened when your biology finally overrode whatever mental gymnastics you were using to resist the attraction. I hoped to use it to prove that you could still be of use, that the project could move forward, but all Alex and Lord Spencer saw was an...unnatural… attraction. That pushed Alex to end the project, regardless of your new potential.”

Another spasm of pain keeps him from arguing about what Birkin just said. Chris is his mate. His feeling can’t possibly be as petty as Birkin is describing. He doesn’t see what Birkin is driving at, probably something similar to whatever Birkin was trying to convince Alex of before she terminated the project. There isn’t anyone from his own species to verify Birkin’s claims, but he’s seen the mad one and knows that she was driven to that point by the deaths of her parents.

Chris is _his_ and that he will do everything to keep his mate and their offspring safe. Why would he leave his mate? Chris is perfect.  

Birkin watches him for a long time before speaking again. “As interesting as it would be to see your change in action, I understand if you’d rather not have another examination after the transformation is complete. But you have to understand that at one point, Redfield may do something that keeps you from what you want to do, from what you can potentially accomplish.”

“Sergeant Redfield would never do something like that!” Rebecca speaks up. He agrees entirely. Chris is kind, loyal to a fault, and won’t stop him from leaving if he has to, though the very thought of leaving makes his stomach turn.

“Am I allowed a say in defending myself, or are you thinking that I’ll...what, trap him in a cage like you did?” Chris barges into the tent. The other female is standing outside looking upset again, but this time at Birkin.

“I’m sure you have a _lot_ to say, but I doubt it’ll hold up under the simplest scrutiny,” Birkin sneers. “What exactly _can_ you argue? That you’ll be good for him? That you have anything to offer him but brainless brawn? Please. He’ll get tired of you the moment his hormones readjust.”

-

Chris has never considered himself smart. He tested high enough to get into the Air Force and to get some piloting experience, but that was probably just a fluke. Nevertheless, he was glad to get in at the time because it was only the branch that his father, a Marine, did not malign, though that didn’t last long after he joined. He’s not good at figuring things out, so he lets Jill pull him from the tent because he wants a really, REALLY good explanation of what the hell is going on, and she’s good at those.

She scolds him for making her drag him out the tent before giving a quick rundown. They hear most of what that scientist, Birkin, says about Wesker’s biology. Wesker doesn’t want to leave him. If that’s really the case, he’s fine with keeping Wesker around, no matter what the challenge. He already decided on it last night, before the...happy wake-up call.

The whole deal with Wesker growing human legs still throws him for a loop, and not because of what they did earlier that morning. He should have stopped it, made Wesker take things slower, but...he was weak. He wanted it too. The lull of quiet and safety, the realization they were finally not being watched, had gotten the better of his judgement. Also Wesker looked _very sexy_ and he needs to stop thinking about that now.

His anger flares up at the scientist’s insinuation that he would leave Wesker or try to trap him. So what if Wesker likes him because of a feat of strength or something else he has done? If Wesker loses interest in him and leaves, it would probably hurt like a bitch, but it’s up to Wesker, not this guy or anyone else.

“What makes you believe I won’t stay with him forever?” Wesker asks the scientist, who has an expression of pure shock on his face upon hearing Wesker talk. Chris grins. The red eyes meet his before focusing on the still-gobsmacked scientist. “Regardless of your assumptions about my physiology, Chris is my mate, and I will not leave him. I’m not so completely beholden to instinct as to only want him for one thing.”

“You say that now,” the scientist sputters, “but what about when you two are finally intimate and have offspring, if you decide that he’s even worth your time? Do you really think that he’ll be able to keep your interest for much longer now that you’re free and your options won’t be limited?”

The mention of becoming “intimate” should have been enough to get him blushing - given that the act has already been done. But what catches his attention is the part right after that.

_Offspring? We’re two guys, how does...wait...how…_

Wesker’s anatomy is clearly not like a human’s, after getting fully introduced to it this morning…  

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck what have I done?_

“Whether we’re intimate again is up to us,” Wesker announces with a shameless smirk. Jill lets out an aborted cough or a laugh, he can’t be sure. “As is the rest. It’s my choice, and his, but _not_ yours.”

It is almost worth every ounce of mortification he is feeling to see the scientist’s face.

Almost, because now his mind is caught up with the fact that he probably impregnated someone who by all appearances should not be able to get pregnant. If they are trying to go into hiding,  it is going to get very hard to stay inconspicuous.

He is _so_ dead.

Jill waits for the scientist to leave in a huff before looking back at Chris and smirking.

“This is not funny,” he mutters.

He sits down next to Wesker, who runs a wet hand through his hair. He sighs, trying not to be totally overwhelmed by the implications.

Rebecca pulls out some more tools. “I...well, I might need some blood for...tests…”

He’s pretty sure their faces are currently the same shade of red, judging by Wesker’s smug look and Jill’s persistent smirk.

“...um...just...to make...that is...um….if-it’s-ok-with-you-I-don’t-want-you-upset-or-anything.”

“Where the hell did you get her from and who did you have to kill to do it?” He asks Jill. Wesker looks at Rebecca, apparently just figuring out that she is addressing him specifically.

“That’s a trade secret,” Jill replies. “You should be more concerned about the plan to get you two out of here.”

“I figured the great Valentine can figure something out. I’ll be available if you need any help.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “You do realize what this will mean when Barry finds out, right?”

“He’ll probably demand to be the godfather for a few...and that he gets to help babysit them.”

Wesker mumbles something under his breath, looking a little less confused by the conversations going on.

“Just...be ready tonight, ok?” Jill says.

He gives her a toothy smile. She shakes her head longsufferingly and leaves with Rebecca.

He looks over at Wesker. “Do you want to come out of there?”

Wesker slides further down into the container, which makes his knees stick out of the discolored water.

“I know you’re upset about something, but let me at least get you out of that mess.”

Wesker tries to glare, but eventually makes a face at the bloody water he is submerged in and stands up. Chris moves to steady him up as he steps out of the container. Wesker looks almost upset at the changes. The transformation must be almost complete. The only part left is Wesker’s feet. His toes still have webbing between them and haven’t grown any toenails yet. There are also angry-looking patches on his legs that are still covered by scales.

He helps Wesker sit on the edge of the bed so he can clean off the shed scales and blood stains. Despite all the changes, Wesker still looks like a Ken doll between the legs. It’s kind of weird, especially up close.

_And yet you know full well it’s not...wait, he has a penis too, right? Does that mean they--but then that means...he’ll be fine with...um…_

“Why are you upset?” Wesker’s question brings him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“I...two human males can’t have...kids together,” he finally says. “Humans...aren’t built for it. It’s why I freaked out. I didn’t...think I’d have kids. The whole thing is a big responsibility, and...just…” he lets out a sigh, trying to ignore the expanse of naked, pale skin, “I don’t want to ruin this.”

He is definitely going to mess something up... Wesker can have kids, and they have already done the act that will probably result in children for them. He is basically diving head-first into what is likely a lifelong commitment.

No matter what that scientist said, Chris knows he’ll do his best for Wesker. Chris doesn’t know exactly what he can do, but hopes whatever he does is enough.

Wesker pulls him up so they’re lying in the cot again, new legs tangling with his. He blinks in surprise at the nearness and intensity of the eye contact.

“You won’t.”

“You don’t--”

“You have done everything in your power to keep me safe and to make sure I’m treated well. Even your choice of friends show that your instincts are sound. You won’t ruin anything.”

Chris wants to argue with that, but he’s not about to say something bad about Jill or Barry. It’s easier to criticize himself, because there’s nothing special about him.  

Wesker nestles closer, apparently enjoying being able to trap Chris just by wrapping his legs around him.

“You won’t. You’ll be a good protector for the children we’ll have. You’ll be perfect.”

Chris lets out a sigh, wrapping his arms around Wesker. He realizes he’s the only one wearing clothes, the fatigues and light brown shirt he went to sleep in.

“Are you feeling better?”

“You aren’t very good at changing the subject,” Wesker pouts.

“No, not really. Doesn’t change the question.”

He looks at Wesker’s legs. Small raised patches of shark skin contrasts with the pale skin and almost-human feet. The area near Wesker’s groin is definitely still similar to how it looked before, odd enough that, at a distance, someone might mistake it for swim trunks. The area feels oddly smooth, unless he runs his fingers up against the skin the wrong way - then the shark skin texture makes itself known.

“Which is?” Wesker’s tone is coy, which makes Chris blush more as he realizes what he’s doing, though he doesn’t move his hand.

“Are you still in pain?”

Wesker shakes his head. Chris resumes touching the newly-formed legs. It’s hard to believe that they were a tail earlier today. So far, the only part that hasn’t changed is the scaled area near his groin.

“You sure? I mean...we should check.”

Wesker smiles knowingly. “I don’t mind a check.”

Chris blushes harder, his mind going to all of the different ways to pleasure Wesker, the sounds the merman made earlier this morning when Chris was half-awake and wanting. He is going to give his full attention this time, and see the results.

He slowly runs his hand down Wesker’s thigh. When he lightly touches the back of one knee, the merman jumps, his lips twitching a bit before he glares.

“You’re ticklish there, it looks like.”

“I’d rather not have it at all, even with these new...legs.” The look on Wesker’s face is similar to the one that he had back when he was trying to hide his sneezing.

“We should find out if there are any sensitive areas.” He smirks deviously before darting a hand under Wesker’s other knee, garnering another jump.

“We? This is more your idea than mine.”

He puts Wesker’s feet on the bed so he can trace the new calf muscles and ankles. There is a sizable patch between Wesker’s legs that is still covered by scales. He stares at it, fascinated by the whole thing. He really shouldn’t think of this as sexy, but watching the transformation, knowing that Wesker is changing because of _him_ , that Wesker’s starting to get all hot and bothered because of _him_ …

Yeah, that’s sexy.

“I know it looks different from yours, but...Chris?”

He shifts forward, moving down to lick a long line up the organ. It is coated in something thick and sweet-tasting, almost like a syrup, but not overpoweringly so. Wesker’s whole body flushes as he goes for another lick up the...well, penis. It’s not like a human one, but he is okay with that. They’ve already had sex when Wesker had a tail. He is probably a freak now.

He continues to lick, doing his best to not get his tongue scourged by going the wrong way against the scaled areas.

Wesker flops down on the cot, panting hard. “...Not...fair…”

“Oh? What’s not?” He asks with his mouth still occupied. Wesker moans at the vibrations.

He’s already moving to get his pants loose, but he wants to get a response from Wesker before escalating things further. Wesker seems to figure this out as well and pulls him down into a kiss, becoming increasingly invested in exploring every bit of his mouth while tugging off his clothing off to see the differences in their anatomy.

They fumble against each other, but Chris manages to stay on top this time. He unzips his pants. Wesker hums in a mix of approval and curiosity upon seeing the bulge against his underwear. He is trying to figure out the easiest way to explain the other ways to do things when Wesker pulls him forward by the waist and lines them up again, the intent obvious.

“Wesker…”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m not...maybe we should wait.”

Wesker hooks their legs together and pulls him closer. “Why not? You are my mate. Whatever Birkin said, I’m not staying with you just because of biology. You’ve proved yourself multiple times, not by strength alone, but by cunning and ability. You want this too. Why wait?”

He does want this, if his raging erection is anything to go by, but his brain has decided to remind him of the stupid decisions he made in the past when he let sex get in the way of his common sense. This time though, Wesker wants it and is fine with all the consequences. Despite his apprehension and self-doubt, he is too, or at least he wants to be.

“Chris?”

“Can I show you something else? Not...what we did earlier?”

Eyes glowing in anticipation, Wesker nods and lets him steal a kiss before he moves so that his legs are up near Wesker’s head. The merman watches closely as Chris runs a hand lightly over Wesker’s organ. Wesker hisses in pleasure, but continues watch him closely and begins to mirror his actions, red eyes darting between what Chris’s mouth and hands are doing and Chris’s straining cock, now freed from the underwear.

“Interesting...” Wesker moves his hand along Chris’ cock. He bites back a curse, surprised that Wesker is able to keep focused in spite of everything he’s doing.

“Fuck...you learn quickly,” he admits almost begrudgingly. There is a small nub near the slit where the organ came from. An experimental lick makes Wesker jerk his hips and moan against Chris’s cock.

Ok, that’s a dirty trick and he’s definitely using it again.

“Ah...Chris...th-that’s…”  

“Yeah?” He continues to trace the area with his fingers, smirking a bit as he hears Wesker’s deep groans and feels the near-bruising hold Wesker has on his legs.

The red eyes are glowing bright, even in the well-lit tent. “...want…”

“After we get out of here, we’ll have all the time..fuck...all...to…”

Groaning, Wesker grips his waist and nuzzles against his cock, clearly not intending to play fair either. He isn’t about to let this stand.

Wesker is a quick study and can apparently do wicked things with that tongue. He can’t complain, but he is not going to be shown up, not when this is his idea, and certainly not when it looks like Wesker is closer than he is.

He takes more of the smooth organ into his mouth and hums around it. Wesker lets out an inhuman screech, which may have set off those barking dogs in the distance. He is pleased enough with the result to repeat the motion, until Wesker can barely pant out his name. The organ twitches in his mouth, excreting more of the sweet, syrupy fluid.

He belatedly remembers that Wesker is a fast learner when Wesker begins to do the same to him.

“Close, please...please…” Wesker almost whines.

He is close too. He swallows Wesker down one more time. Wesker does the same, which finally sends him over the edge, right before Wesker’s organ pulses against his tongue.

In the afterglow, they lie in the cot, barely able to move. It takes a moment before they have the energy to move so that they are face-to-face again.

“Are we going to do this often?” Wesker asks, clearly proud of himself.

“Shut up,” he mutters half-heartedly, hugging Wesker close, “I haven’t had anything like this before. I’m going to freak out a little.”

“Neither have I, yet I’m fine with everything. What’s wrong?”

Chris sighs against Wesker’s neck, wishing the merman were less observant, at least about him.

“It is that I haven’t had this. I’ve been called a lot of things based on who I like, what I am… That has landed me in trouble before. I ended up on the island and met you because people thought I was...trouble.”  
“I’m not sure if I understand, though I doubt the trouble you got into is so bad, if it brought you to me.”

“I worry that you might get hurt because of me, that I might mess something up, or that if...when we have kids, things will turn out bad anyway...” He’s grateful that Wesker doesn’t loosen his hold. “I want you to have the best.”

“You are. I have encountered many humans that Umbrella sent to that place, and killed most of them. You are superior to them because of your capabilities, in addition to surviving my attempt to drown you.”

Chris has to chuckle. “How romantic.”

“It’s biology. I doubt it’s supposed to be romantic in the beginning.”

At least Wesker feels confident about the whole thing, which has helped keep him from overreacting, but he’s sure he will freak out again later. He just has to make sure he doesn’t mess anything up.

“We’ll manage,” Wesker says, as if reading his thoughts, “I will make sure that I am the best for you too.”

“You’re already too good for me, but I might need to be reminded of that a few times, until it sinks in.”

Wesker looks smug. “I’m sure I can keep you reminded of what I mean to you.”


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker thinks on the future in his new home.

Wesker lays on the couch, watching something called “Blue Planet” on the TV. The thin discs that contain the pictures is a gift from Jill. They have been away from Umbrella’s island for several months. His legs were enough to convince the other humans that he was another subject who was experimented on. The color of his eyes were explained away as an effect of the experiments. The rest, as far as he can tell, was waved off in favor of getting him and Chris back to land as an apology for what happened.

Birkin had seethed in anger at seeing him leave with Chris, but there was little the scientist could do to show that he was different.

He was told that they were lucky that O’Brian was the one in charge. Apparently the man owed Jill and Chris a favor, and let them go without any further testing.

Chris is the one who found their small home, a “foreclosure,” and has been diligently fixing it. The home is near a small lagoon so that Wesker can rest in the ocean if he wants to. The first thing that Chris did after they got the house was to get a container that looked similar to what he used in the tent shortly after their escape. The new container is larger, white, and has claw-like feet on the bottom. It is big enough that both he and Chris can lie back in it.

“Wesker, are you ok?” Chris’s voice carries over from the main hall. He emerges carrying more construction material. The home isn’t the most well-furnished, but it is secluded and their own. In fact, Chris seems happy to be fixing things by himself.

“I’m watching the TV. They’re woefully inept on things involving the ocean.”

Chris chuckles and motions for him to sit up in order to settle into the pillows and hug him from behind. “Humans aren’t able to live there for months like you did. Though I’m sure you didn’t live that far north.”

“No. Too far.”

He wonders if he could have gone that far north, but since he isn’t about to ask Birkin anything, he can’t really find out. Maybe he should have tried, though just seeing the snow and ice makes him crave a warm bath. Still, he wants to find out more about himself, just not through the humans who experimented on him. He’s in luck that the other humans didn’t question anything, and that he’s now safely with his mate.

“Barry was wondering if you know how many you’ll have. So he can send kid stuff over,” Chris says.

He looks down at his stomach. It’s not showing, not yet, but he knows instinctively that he’s pregnant, in the same way he knew that Chris was his mate when they met.

Where they live now is not an island, but it’s secluded enough that it may as well be. Both of them are fine with that. After everything, he is weary of humans. Jill and Barry are trying to visit more often. Chris is far too close to Jill for his liking, and he tends to hold onto his mate tighter whenever she’s around. But they have been helpful as his body begins to show signs of his condition. Barry and his family seem to accept him, though he’s not sure how much Barry actually knows, beyond the fact that he can have children. He has a feeling that there will be two or three, and the thought of them makes him lean further against Chris.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps two.”

Chris hums in satisfaction.

“Are you alright, Chris?”

“Yeah, sure, fine.”

“Chris…”

“I’ll be fine,” Chris reassures, “I’m trying to keep busy and not think about fatherhood. Or that my sister might come visit us again.”

He perks up at the news. He has heard plenty about Chris’ younger sister Claire, even before he met her. At their first meeting, she’d smiled happily and treated him well, but when Chris left the two of them alone to get something, her eyes glinted like a shark’s.

_“Hurt him and you won’t find a place to hide. I’ll turn you into sushi.”_

His approval of her has increased ever since he learned what “sushi” is. If anyone were to hurt Chris, he and Claire would murder the the offender together.  

“When?”

“She’s not sure yet. Also, she’s thinking about transferring colleges to be closer us.”

More good news. Chris needs Claire around, not Jill.  

He relaxes. He’ll soon have the children and raise them with his mate. If he’s lucky, he’ll have another litter in a few years.

“She’ll be able to help me finish up the kitchen,” his mate says with a yawn. Chris has been decorating their den to the best of his ability, making it _theirs_ in every sense. But maybe Claire can help a little.

Feeling content, his eyes drift closed. The contentment is as good as the way he felt the first time he escaped to the ocean, freed from the humans’ testing and prodding. With his mate’s heartbeat steady against his ear and the feel of the children growing in him, he nods off to the quiet sounds of a sophisticated voice narrating about the open ocean.

 

**_The End_ **


End file.
